Uchiha Itachi
by talanai rialric
Summary: With blood on his hands, he made the ultimate sacrifice for his village, descending from ANBU hero to Bingo Book rogue in an instant. ItaKaka
1. Foolish Little Brother

Foolish Little Brother

Or

How Many Times Can Sasuke Get in Itachi's Way in One Day?

Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto. I do not fantasize about owning Naruto. I did not create Naruto, and most of the stuff I write is probably horribly inaccurate. Besides, if I owned Naruto, it would focus more on The Handsome Devil of the Leaf Village. (the first episodes I saw had him getting the crap beat out of him during the Chunin exams, and I felt really bad for him).

Author's Note: This is my first fanfic. Bear in mind I think Itachi is really, really creepy, and I firmly believe someone ought to teach him that black polish on both finger nails and toe nails is excessive. Moreover, it bugs me that he doesn't put his arms through the sleeves of his robes. What is he, five? I picked Itachi for my first fanfic because I like the challenge of replaying a scene from the point of view of a vastly misunderstood character. Plus, of every guy in Naruto, his hair bothers me the least, and the Tsukuyomi is pretty cool. Anyway, here goes…something.

Death should not bother me. Murder should not bother me. Usually, neither has any effect on me. But until I sowed death, and distributed murder among my own clan, I did not know the true meaning of destruction. Seeing the familiar faces staring back at me, the sightless eyes accusatory and glowering, shook the unshakable core of my being.

It rained that day. Thick, heavy clouds filled the sky throughout the entire morning, waiting until late afternoon to drop an ocean's worth of water upon my—the—village. I left the house early that morning, a final, pathetic attempt to hide my plans from my clueless family. Even my ever perceptive father did not notice anything amiss.

I almost escaped successfully, free of any final contact with my family, contact that could shake my resolve and create the shadow of doubt that would ultimately prove to be my undoing. One foot out the door, the other hovered over the threshold, I allowed myself an instant of celebration. Then, I heard a soft, high voice faintly call out to me.

"Big Brother?" he whispered. Curse the insufferable curiosity of younger brothers. Of all the siblings in the world, Sasuke was perhaps the worst, always following me and pestering me for help with his training. How annoying, and ill timed.

"Hmm?" I turned back, wiping all traces of irritation from my face. A few more hours, and I would not have to deal with any of this anymore. But until then, I had to remain the perfect older brother, even if it meant suffering Sasuke for a few more minutes.

"Where are you going?" Sasuke whined. "You promised to help me with my new jutsu." He stretched the final syllable out into a plaintive sigh. Gods only can guess how much I hate it when he whines. Calm down, I told myself, today is just like every other day, no different than yesterday or…tomorrow. He adores you, will believe anything, he isn't a threat to the mission.

"Sasuke…I am going," I paused dramatically and gestured conspiratorially for him to come closer. "Out." I poked him in the center of the forehead as I spoke.

"Oww." Sasuke rubbed his head. "You always do that, big brother. You act nice and then you poke me in the head." He frowned at me, and I fought the urge to smile. Gods I hate his whining, incessant complaints about everything, and I briefly wondered if he was capable of normal speech. But the betrayed looks always amused me. He was so young, so naïve, so innocent.

"Sasuke, I'll help you with your jutsu when I get back, okay? I do not have time for you now."

"Itachi—"

I just walked away, unable to stand his presence anymore without revealing part of my plan. That face… As much as he annoyed me, I could not help but hope he would not be around that afternoon. He made me doubt I could complete my mission with him in the way.

"Sasuke, why don't you stay after school and train for a while? Get some help from your sensei." I suggested, trying to salvage my plan and keep him out of the way.

"Okay big brother." Sasuke flashed his trademark lopsided grin at my back, and I felt his content. But no Sasuke meant no obstacle, so everything would go smoothly, a small blessing in itself. I stalked away into the cloudy morning, doubting my ability to be impartial for the first time, doubting my ability to complete my mission. Maybe if I spoke to Sarutobi one more time…

No. No, the scroll in the Hokage's office would never allow me to reconsider. I agreed to the task, and as part of the ANBU Black Ops, I could not back out because I found it distasteful. I had gotten in too far to back out, anyway. My best friend rested in his grave, dead by my hand so I could gain the ultimate power of the Sharingan. Any failure in this mission dishonored his memory.

The day drug by slowly. Each second ticked by with all the speed of frozen molasses, and I each instant grated on my nerves. With no small missions to undertake that day, I paced the village like a caged tiger, angry and full of raw tension. Overcast skies, heavy with the impending rain did nothing to improve my mood.

I began my attack as the clouds finally broke, spilling rain on the village.

Dressed in full ANBU attire, I returned to the Uchiha compound, weapons in hand. The first fell easily, unaware of the impending danger of my kunai, unaware of their imminent demises. After those first murders, the scattered drops of rain fell harder, almost as thick and heavy as the rain of blood falling from my hands.

My extended family fell before my hands, most of the relatives in this area too old or too young to defend themselves well enough to pose a challenge. Despite that, I knew better than to relax my guard. At any moment the active ninja would arrive, and then I would have my hands full just staying alive. Even a prodigy is not a god.

Soon enough, one of my cousins, an active Jonin just back from an S ranked mission, appeared behind me, fingers flying through a jutsu. Before he finished the last symbol, I lodged a kunai knife in his throat. Too easy, really, especially to defeat a Jonin, so I was not surprised to hear the familiar whoosh of a substitution jutsu.

I reversed my grip on the kunai knife and swung behind me. A cry of pain rewarded my efforts, and I twisted the blade violently before wrenching it free. His corpse thudded to the ground behind me. I glanced down at my arm, slightly surprised by the thick blood that covered me in a gory, partially dry splatter. I looked demonic. Good, perhaps I could put some fear into their hearts before I killed them.

Night fell quickly, its approach expedited by dark storm clouds still looming overhead.

Even with the sight disguised by the half-light, I felt sick as the bodies began to accumulate in the street. A thousand sightless eyes glared up at me, and the accusations of guilt and betrayal cut deeper than any blade.

What was I doing? Did I really trust Sarutobi more than my own family? Could I truly place the safety of the village over the lives of my kin?

Pausing, I surveyed the carnage around me. The clouds chose that moment to disperse, and the glare of the full moon left no detail untouched. Every body glowed a cadaverous white, their wounds violent slashes outlined in the deepest crimson. It was awful.

I sighed and closed my eyes slowly. Too late now for me to change anything. I had killed too many and left too many alive for either faction of this silent war of intelligence and subterfuge to accept me. It would be best if I finished the job and simply disappeared. No future awaited me now, no life existed for me in the village.

I turned to the only remaining house. Mine. A part of me prayed that it would be empty, silently my clueless parents had realized what was happening and fled. I could not stand to kill anymore.

I walked slowly, placing my feet to avoid the creaking floorboards I knew so well. I watched my blood stained hands as they slowly moved towards the wooden door handles, which pulled open with equal silence, revealing an empty room. My heart sang softly. Maybe they had fled. Sasuke had taken my advice and stayed away, perhaps…

I heard a floorboard creak.

"Itachi…what have you done?"

I heard the pain in the voice, the desperation. How pathetic, that my father, such a strong ninja, would be so afraid. The fear in his voice told me everything. He would not fight back, he would not raise a hand to stop me. Fear paralyzed him, and speaking was his last chance. I wonder now if he hoped to persuade me to spare him. If he did, it was a foolish, cowardly hope.

My father and mother stood less than a knife throw away. I could not ignore the twisted faces gaping at me, horror and disbelief etched upon their features.

My dolt of a father spoke again. "What have you done, Itachi?" He demanded, as though he actually expected me to answer. I laughed bitterly at his stupidity. His only answer would be a knife in the chest, straight through his traitorous heart. Not that he would ever know that, considering the brevity of his remaining life span.

"How could you do this to your own family? Does not your heart bleed with every blow? Are you not killing yourself as well?" my sentimental mother broke the tension, realizing I did not intend to answer him.

"No. My heart does not bleed, for my shield is the mere realization that every life I take here saves a dozen, a score. I cannot ignore what you were planning, and neither could the Hokage. It is his orders I follow and it is too late to cease now. You are the only two remaining, and then I will leave the village."

"But why? Why would you choose the Hokage over you own family?" She looked desperate now.

"I have no need to justify myself to you," I said, growing bored with all of the talking, and feeling a rising desperation to leave the village. I wanted to be free of this mess and leave, but it seemed such would not be the case, when my father moved to speak again. Angrily I lunged, cutting him down before the first words passed his lips. My mother fell in the next instant, both of them dead. Relief washed over me. I was finished with that loathsome task, would never have to do anything so awful again. I was free.

Sasuke screamed.

My heart screamed in reply. Foolish little brother! Why did you return? I tried so hard to keep you away, to keep you safe, so why did you come back? Every muscle in my body tensed while my mind raced through a thousand plans for avoiding his murder.

"Why?" he screamed, his voice torn with the agony, the horror he was experiencing. I threw a kunai at him, more to shut him up than anything. It barely grazed his shoulder, yet he fell to the ground sobbing.

I approached, determined to explain myself to him at least, simultaneously formulating a plan to let him escape. Blood, probably from our parents, dripped from my hands and spattered across the floor.

"Stay away!" He desperately screamed again. I paused, momentarily reconsidering my plan to let him go, idly musing that the world might be better without his shrieking. My mind was shutting down emotionally, and the thoughts lacked depth or logical support.

My pause afforded him time to flee, to run through the doors as fast as his short legs would carry him. I watched him go, and then left myself, walking towards the center of the complex. Hopefully, he would show a modicum of intelligence and run far away. I needed only to ascertain that no more Uchihas remained alive and I could follow suit with a dramatic, yet subtle exit. I jumped to the top of a thick wooden pillar to gain a clear vantage point.

I surveyed the area. A soft sigh escaped my lips. Good, no one drew breath, meaning was finally done. Then I caught sight of Sasuke. Each and every time I believed myself to be done, that annoying slip of a boy would appear. He was beginning to become more of a bother than an asset. Although other ninja from the village could serve his purpose, they would not have his drive, his hatred to guide them. No, he would be the only one capable of the task I needed now, so he would have to live.

He froze upon seeing me, silhouetted as I was by the blazing, angry light of the full moon. That would not do, would not do at all. How could an Uchiha, a brother of mine, be such a coward? Pathetic, and at the rate he was going, he would never have enough hatred. How could I make him understand?

"Sasuke," I muttered. He turned and fled again.

Fine, if he could not listen, then I would show him, make him relive each and every moment of it.

Tsukuyomi.

I replayed the events leading up to the moment for him, yet my lack of experience with the ultimate power of the Sharingan caused me to miss the crucial line, the orders from the Hokage.

He ran, again. I should have known. Of course, I would be gifted with the most worthless, pathetic, imbecilic lump for a brother. I followed him, determined to instill the foundation of hate he would need.

"Foolish little brother," I hissed. "Run, run and live. Survive and be ashamed for living in such a pathetic manner."

I pursued him, uttering similar taunts, until he collapsed from exhaustion. Satisfied he would interfere no more, I took one final look around, slashed a single line across my head band, forever marking myself a rogue ninja, and left the village.

I hesitated just before crossing the threshold of the gate. Curse my mother, for I could not free myself from the sight of her eyes burned into my mind. The sightless orbs stared at me no matter where I turned, and I saw enemies in every shadow. I wondered how long I had, before my former comrades began hunting me, how long before I became the quarry of the tracker ninja. Would I be killed, the Sharingan torn from my corpse and given to someone else, perhaps even Sasuke, to use? Had I done enough to ensure his hatred? Would he grow to be an avenger? Only time I no longer had would tell.

Author's Note: I apologize that most of this is stuff you already know, told from Itachi's view point. Thank you for bearing with me through that, and next time, your patience will be rewarded as the story gets going. What does Itachi do during all that time between his abrupt departure and his reappearance during his search for Naruto? I have no clue, but I will come up with something. I just figured it would be best to start here, and I apologize if I spoiled anything for anybody. Do not come crying to me over it though. It was spoiled for me too, so I know how you feel. Now we are all sad together because our friends ruin the surprises in all the anime to which we devote hours. Now we are over it. Anyway, please tell me what you think, other than that most of this is review, and throw in some criticism. I want your input on how to make the story better. Point out anything that is overly confusing, or wrong, including spelling since I do not yet speak Japanese. If all I get is fluffy, gushy "You're so great! Write more!" I will not post the next segment. So there. *sticks tongue out, then giggles at how out of character the stern admonition is* (at least it isn't that bad of a cliff hanger…I have had MUCH worse.)


	2. Blood On My Hands

Author's Note: Hi there. It's been a while. A long while. Passwords are tricky…and if you forget them…life is not good. And life is busy. So. Sorry. But, better extremely late than never. Here's chapter two, and a look into the mind of Ita-kun. Enjoy!

I couldn't stop running. Air burned through my lungs and scalded my veins, but I couldn't stop. My heart throbbed in my ears, loud and earnest as a drum beat. I could feel my pulse in every inch of my body, an incessant hammering that rattled me to my marrow. They were relentless in the chase, and I was exhausted, a fox run to ground by hounds. If I did not manage to confuse the best trackers in the Lear soon, I'd be dead.

Their response was too fast, even for ANBU. By all reckoning, I should have had at least a handful of minutes before a team organized and began pursuit, in all likelihood at least an hour. But my once friends were chasing me the instant I set foot outside the village, a subtle signal of the depth of the Hokage's cunning. That I might die at their hands hurt more than the actual thought of death. Flashes of memories shot through the back of my mind, a crooked grin from a bad joke, a bloodstained had hurling a kunai with impossible accuracy. These Shinobi were my family, even more than the corpses growing cold behind me. They deserved better than what I was forcing them into. If I could lose them…

Dried blood on my skin itched and flaked off, leaving a blatant trail for them to follow, even without the use of ninja hounds.. I tried to brush most of it off as I ran to make the tracking more difficult, but the effort was fruitless without water. Each time I thought I was clean I found another patch clinging to my clothing or skin. Hiding my path was out of the question without a stroke of serious luck on my side. ANBU do not believe in luck.

Wind tore at me as I ran, trying to drag me sideways when I leapt through the air. A chill ran down my spine, which had nothing to do with the cold. Part of me could feel them getting closer. Cracking branches, rustling leaves, told me they weren't afraid to be heard, and that when they caught up with me, there would be no hesitation. Speed mattered more than stealth. If I managed to make it out of this alive, I would be in the Bingo Book for certain. They didn't intend to let me live that long, or give me a chance to find some sort of hiding place. Besides, they knew me, and my refusal to hide. Run, yes, but hide like a whimpering child, never.

But I knew them too. I knew how they would follow, how they tracked, and how to fool them. I started suppressing my chakra, knowing they could use even the slightest presence of it to find me, and began looking for a stream. We were far enough out to be in unfamiliar territory, which worked to my advantage. They would be just as easily disoriented on the unfamiliar terrain as I would, but as I had no need to communicate my position or navigate back to the village, being lost did not make a difference to me.

Finally the sound of water on rock reached my ears. Slightly to the right of my current path, a wide river roared, tearing at the banks in its desperate flight downstream. I smiled as I dropped from the trees to the riverbank. The sound, combined with the depth of the river would make it the perfect hiding place. Without further hesitation, I insinuated myself into the aquatic foliage along the shore, and into the ground.

The silt I disturbed rushed away with the current, leaving the river untouched to the eyes of my pursuers. I felt the vibrations of their landings and footsteps, following my trail to the edge of the river. Soft splashes told me the ANBU were right on top of me. Buried deep in the mud of the river bed as I was, they couldn't hear me, but I held my breath, despite my reed for breathing. I couldn't see them, too much silt and dirt and rock covered my face, but I could feel their eyes. If this didn't work, I was dead.

Vaguely I heard the mumbling of voices, distorted by water and sand, and I wondered for an instant if some part of my disguise was visible. Had I dug to shallowly? Was there some tell-tale sign, a broken cattail, a bent blade of grass screaming my position to anyone with eyes to see it? But they moved on. Minutes passed, or perhaps hours, before I dared to even breathe, and the sun was rising as I finally pried myself out of the muck. I suspected the ANBU waited for me on the shore, in some sort of complex trap, but as I emerged, I found I didn't really care. All the fear of the past days of running was gone. Nothing they could do to me would change what I had done, and it would be no less than I deserved.

After all, what difference would one more dead Uchiha make?

A brief survey showed I was alone. Completely. The forest was unnaturally, disturbingly silent. Not even a breath of air rattled the leaves. It was too quiet for me to be at ease, and my nerves were too rattled by the chase to allow me to absorb some of nature's peace. All of me felt raw, tense, strained, and I wanted nothing more than a long soak in a hot spring and a nice long night of blissful sleep. Unfortunately, I was miles at least from the nearest town, being chased by a squad of skilled assassins, and covered in several pounds of river mud.

Some of said mud plopped off my arms with an almost deafening squelch, shattering the silence more effectively than an explosion. With a soft sigh, I knelt in the stream and started washing off the grime. In the absence of soap, running water would have to suffice for cleanliness. Slightly cooler than the air, the water was refreshing. I splashed some over my arms and back, scrubbing vigorously at my clothing so I wouldn't look like a fugitive when I reached civilization. When I got to my face, I saw the blood still crusting my fingers, caked around and under the nails. I dipped them back in the water, using a bit of the of shore sand as grit to scrub.

They still wouldn't come clean.

More sand, harsher scrubbing, and I could still see the blood, and my hands were painfully raw. I stopped, annoyed by the blood, but unable to do anything about it without stripping the flesh from my hands and adding my own blood to the mix.

Besides which, the long run and sleepless nights left me tired and hungry. Of the two, food seemed more immediately important. Even the perfectly rested grew weak without food. Usually rivers led to towns, but the ANBU probably thought I had changed course and started off running on top of the water to confuse them, so my best option would lie in the unexpected course: back to Konoha.

A large Shinobi village like the Hidden Leaf gave birth to hundreds of tiny villages, all small enough to make my appearance there impossible. But there also were a few large towns, mostly trading stops for merchants moving between Shinobi villages, with enough visitors that one more would not draw undue attention.

Author's Note: Bad place to end, I know, but I feel like the next bit is going to be longish, and I'd rather not post a ridiculously long chapter. Now that Ita-kun is going a bit psychotic on us, in the form of hallucinations and Obsessive hand washing, things get interesting. Who will he meet in town? Once I write it out, you'll know. (And I promise the next chapter will come MUCH sooner.) If you get bored waiting…check me out on Fictionpress? I'm a bit better at updating there…mostly because all my stories are oneshots…but still….R&R please!


	3. Deadly Distractions

Deadly Distractions

Author's Note: As I write this chapter, I am trying (unsuccessfully) to post Chapter 2. This is Chapter 3. The internet is irritating.

I finally found what I sought as the sunlight vanished completely. Much like the trackers watched for any of my signs, I looked for such things on a broader scale. Scattered litter, bruised brush, broken twigs, all these things pointed towards a person's passage. Multiplied by a few dozen, and suddenly there was some sort of civilization. My first attempts led me to a village, too small to be of much use to me, but the roads leading away from it guided me to a larger settlement. Until the last instant, when I could feel the forest change from untamed to domestic wilderness, I ran a path parallel to the road a few feet into the foliage. I stepped onto the path, thanked the darkness for hiding some of the mess that would make me suspicious.

As I approached the town, rain began to fall. The droplets, cold and sharp, stung my bare skin like a thousand needles, but I ignored them. Discomfort aside, there was no point in surrendering to every whim of nature. Besides which, the rain gave me a plausible reason for being muddy that didn't involve a complex lie.

The majority of the town was still, driven indoors by the sudden deluge and the unseasonable cold. I needed to find a meal of some sort, and I cursed myself for forgetting provisions. Too many distractions and forgotten items would lead to an untimely demise for a rogue ninja. Without even a coin to my name, there would be no entering one of the buildings throwing golden squares of light onto the ground. Sighing, I turned and walked back down the road to the forest. Naturally I could feed myself from the plants around me, but it wasn't preferable or practical for a man on the run to forage for every meal.

Just a few steps back down the road, I felt eyes on the back of my head, heard footsteps dogging mine. My follower tried to be subtle, timing his footsteps with mine so there would be no extra noise, but the doubled splashing of mud gave him away. No tracker ninja would be that obvious. No ANBU would be that bold.

I stopped dead in my tracks.

Rogue.

If this village was the hideout of another rogue ninja, he would not take kindly to my trespass. Terribly territorial over their claimed lands, rogues terrorized villagers and slaughtered any ninja foolish enough to come within spitting distance. The invasion of another rogue would incite a rage like no other. And I was another rogue.

Until that moment, I did not think of myself as a rogue, a traitor to my village. But I was. And thinking the chase was over, that it would ever be over, or that gaining a few minutes of respite would be enough to make me safe, was as foolish as Sasuke's hope of ever avenging my deeds.

Food, shelter, provisions be damned, I had to get out of the village. Small matter that rain poured down around me, thick and heavy streams weighing down my clothes and turning the lightweight fabric into a cocoon of lead. Ignore the aching protests of abused muscles and start running. Forget about hunger and thirst, for they are weaknesses of the flesh, fit only to be ignored.

But I was lost in these thoughts as I urged my body to move.

Distractions are deadly.

His solid chest stopped me in my tracks a second time, somehow appearing in front of me in the time it took me to move one step.

Ducking my head, I muttered an apology, and tried to step around him, feigning ignorance and innocence. He stepped in front of me again. I sidestepped, getting irritated and anxious. He grabbed my chin and forced my eyes to meet his.

"Well, well, Uchiha Itachi. It has been a long time, hasn't it."

He made some tea while I changed into dry clothes. The hotel room was not large, but it was bigger than most I'd ever seen. His black umbrella sat in the corner by the door, next to two matching pairs of blue sandals. A spare mesh shirt and black pants were all I could find, besides a few of his signature shirts, and hell if I would wear those. Already a wanted man myself, I didn't need his notoriety getting me killed.

"Are you coming, Itachi-kun?"

I suppressed a shiver. His voice was like oil, too smooth, too dark, and I hated the way he said my name. Almost as if we were friends, or something more.

It was downright disturbing.

"Yes." I sighed softly, grabbing a towel from the bathroom to rub the last of the water out of my hair. Drops of liquid ice splattered on the floor. I glanced at the mirror on my way out. Shadows dogged my eyes and lines marked my face with exhaustion. My shoulders slumped forward, pulled down by some invisible weight. In short, I looked like death had found me on the street instead of _him._ I ran one hand through my hair, trying to settle it into some sort of presentable form. He wouldn't tolerate a mussed appearance. Things like that were important to him.

Out of the corner of my eye I noticed something strange on my hand. I disentangled it from my hair and studied it, trying to see what caught my eye. Then, turning my palm down, I saw it.

My nails were still rimmed in blood.

Resigned to the fact that it wasn't coming off, even the bleach I'd taken from his closet apparently hadn't gotten rid of it, I finished smoothing my hair and headed out to the main part of his apartment. At a rather condescending gesture from him, I settled into the vacant chair on the opposite side of the table. Like everything else, the table was good quality, but old and worn. In places, the rich varnish yielded to the bare wood, scraped away by constant use. A delicate tea set, once presumably white but now some shade of not quite yellow, rested between us, an equally fragile tea cup perched on a plate before me. After an awkward moment of silence, I raised the cup to my lips and sipped. Peppermint.

Sitting opposite him at the table was irritating. He stared at me while I drank, which was awkward, and made me suspect the tea was tampered with. As if sensing my thoughts, he ripped my cup from my hands and took a long draught, smirking. With slightly more decorum, he poured more tea.

"What brings you here, in the rain, Itachi-kun?"

"Things, " I evaded. He placed the cup back in front of me, but I avoided it like the plague. Like I would drink something containing his spit. Disgusting.

"Did you miss me?"

"No."

"I am hurt, Itachi-kun." His eyes said he was more annoyed than hurt. Perhaps even murderous.

"The answer is still no." I stood and made my way to the couch. Just before I sat down, I felt something wet on the left side of my neck. Warm, solid, and wet.

"Orochimaru-san will kindly not lick me." I glared and turned around. The snake Sanin retracted his outrageously long tongue, tucking it back into his mouth. Snake spit ran down my shoulder, but I refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing me cringe. Nasty old creep.

"What did you see in the mirror, Itachi-kun? Are those hands of yours still dirty?"

I just stared at him, and my silence confirmed his suspicions

"I remember my first kills in the name of the Hokage. Sometimes I can still see the blood on my hands." He flourished his black painted nails at me. "But I keep them covered. It doesn't bother me anymore. You'll find killing gets easier every time."

"I'm going to bed," I announced, and moved to the purple-gray futon in the living room.

Orochimaru stood up eagerly, stepping towards the couch.

"Alone." My eyes flashed red, resplendent with the Sharingan in a none too subtle threat.

Author's Note:

Orochimaru is a mega creeper. And the tongue thing? Seen him do it, and it grosses me out every time.

So, now you know who Ita-kun bumped into…but what does it mean that the first person he meets is an Akatsuki? Hhmmmm….who else will Itachi meet along the way?

Still trying to post chapter 2….gods help me when I try to get this one up. We'll see.

R and R, to keep me fighting the storm of internet uselessness.


	4. Damn

Damn.

Author's Note: VICTORY! And it only took a few thousand clicks…For those of you who aren't trying to post stories, there have been a few…shall I say "issues" with some of the more popular categories and publishing. But, I finally did it, (as evidenced by the appearance of chapters 2 and 3) and now, I shall finish chapter 4, and there'll be 3 chapters in one day! Hell yeah!

Any way…back to Itachi's emo corner.

Despite the awkwardness of sleeping on a battered purple gray couch in the home of one of Konoha's Most Wanted, I awoke well rested and more than ready to move on. While rescuing my clothes and them with the borrowed ones, I stole a backpack, a spare set of kunai and senbon needles, and a whetstone. From the kitchen pantry I borrowed two weeks of provisions in the form of dried meats and a sturdy flask for water. Just before I vanished into the weak dawn sunlight, I backtracked and stole a jar from the bathroom counter. Orochimaru could rot in hell, and probably would, but that didn't make him useless, or a fool.

The apartment door closed softly behind me, and I jumped lightly to the ground, abandoning the stairs entirely. Last night I noticed how many of them creaked, and decided it wasn't worth my effort to avoid them. Doubtless Orochimaru would notice the slightest sound, and if he decided to chase me, a head start afforded by throwing care to the wind would be an extreme advantage.

Deep in his lair of a bedroom, cocooned in a layer of lavish silk and velvet, Orochimaru smiled into the darkness at the soft thump of a body hitting the ground. Itachi would never do as a host…far too restless, though time and suffering would serve as the best tempers. He would bear watching.

I left the village before the predawn gray lifted, enjoying the silence and the lack signs of my Anbu pursuers. At the outskirts, I was confronted by several options of trails, ranging from due north to south, and even a road that curled around the village and headed east. Since I last heard my pursuers head east and north east along the river, I turned to the south west.

Trees lined the road, which was still damp enough from the rain during the beginning of the week to not be dusty, and a small ditch separated the roadside from the dense woods. An occasional breeze kissed the trees, rattling the summer leaves in a parody of applause.

At noon, I stopped for a light lunch and a rest. It was also the perfect opportunity to test Orochimaru's theory. I could still see the blood crusted about my nails, though, at this point the logical part of my mind informed me that there was no possible way for there to still be blood on my hands. Suddenly the little black jar seemed all the more imposing.

Still, I was committed to giving it a try. I unscrewed the cap, surprised to find a smallish black brush attached to the lid. A slightly nauseating smell emanated from the inside, coming from a viscous black fluid. Not totally ignorant of the concept of nail polish-I did know a few girls in Konoha and had seen them using nail polish- I dabbed some on my left thumb nail.

No more blood.

Thoroughly content with this new development, I covered each of my nails in the paint, capped up the bottle, and started walking, shaking my hands to help the polish dry faster. For the first time in days, I didn't feel the weight of my actions dragging on my heart. As I passed through the forest, I heard the chirping of birds and buzzing of the local insect population, all of it unusually loud. My training told me the obnoxious smell had given me away, and the sounds were a cheap cover for my enemies.

My ears told me it was all in my head.

Being hunted really makes me paranoid, and it rubbed my nerves raw.

Sunlight beat down almost mockingly, as if it had a right to be so cheerful. Nothing was the same, and there was no reason for joy, for such happiness. No justification for its presence. Just when I needed a rainy, stormy, awful day, we get saddled with a heat wave.

Aside from a mild irritation at the brightness of the world, I felt disconnected from the world, like I could move through it but was not a part of it. The sensation was strange, like being trapped underwater. Sounds vaguely penetrated my bubble, but my mind processed them slowly, but intensely. I could hear voices arguing in the distance, suddenly masking the natural sounds of the forest.

"Kakuzu! Damn you!"

"Are you done _yet?_ The drop is at sundown." A squelching sound echoed through the trees.

"That f***ing HURT, Kakuzu! But it hurt…soooo good."

I almost turned north then and there. What kind of masochistic lunatic would-

"We have company, Hidan."

_Damn. _They were closer than I expected thanks to my disconnect altered judgment, just on the other side of a stand of trees. No point in running. I stepped closer, only to be met by the unpleasant sight of a man impaled on some sort of ritual sign scribed in blood on the ground. He was in the process of extracting the sword from his chest, and blood poured from the corners of his mouth and smeared across his entire torso.

"God will punish you for interrupting my sacrifice," the man shouted, finally wrenching the sword free with a disgusting squelch. After the events of the past week, I found the sound didn't bother me as much as if should have.

"Shut up, Hidan. No one cares about your foolish rituals," the one named Kakuzu scowled, obviously irritated with the display.

"Don't tell me to shut up, bastard! Not when you waste our time with your stupid bounties."

"Stranger, there isn't a bounty on you, by chance?" Kakuzu scrutinized me for a moment, rather like one might inspect a particularly delicious looking meal. "I thought not." He continued, interpreting my silence as an answer.

"Come, Hidan. We have places to be."

"Hey, hey, hey! Kakuzu! This guy has the nail polish, and the slash on the head band! Do you think-"

"Him? Akatsuki? Don't waste my time. Just kill him and be done with it. This bounty won't keep forever."

I took a reflexive step back, a kunai already in my hand. If they wanted a fight, I was more than willing to oblige.

Author's Note: so. Chapter 4. Yeah. It's going somewhere. I promise.

Reviews are great. I like them. They're easy (you don't even have to sign in!), and they make me happy. And inclined to write more.

So push the button. Do it.


	5. Tsukuyomi, Meet Masochist

Tsukuyomi, Meet Masochist

When confronted by a man covered in his own blood with a gaping hole in his chest, and a man hauling a corpse around like a sack of potatoes, I did what any sensible person would do: I stood completely still and hoped they would forget about me and leave. Not so effective on lunatics, for the record, though, surprisingly this tactic had always worked on my Otouto…

"Hey, Kakuzu, I think we scared him. Can I kill him?"

"Do whatever you like, just hurry up about it." The one called Kakuzu scowled.

"Then stay out of it." Hidan smiled a feral smile, and swung his tri-scythe gleefully.

Without further warning, he dashed forward, slinging the bladed monstrosity in front of him. Suddenly aware of how wheat must feel during harvest, I drew a second kunai while dropping back out of his range. When his first swing missed, he reversed the blades and struck again, missing my face by a hair's breadth.

Something stopped me from attacking. His guard was terrible, and with a good, fast strike, I could be able to strike him down, but every time I saw a useable opening, my body refused to attack. So I kept stepping back, blocking, and considering an attack. I would never be able to win without cutting him, but my disconnected mind took greater interest in processing my surroundings than in watching the fight. I could work with that.

Soft grass brushed against my toes as I evaded, always one step beyond his reach, always one instant ahead. Despite the other's seeming disinterest, I kept half my attention on him, unwilling to ignore a potential combatant when completely devoid of backup. Never before had I felt so alone in a fight. Sure, I had taken on others in a one on one match, but never in a death match, and never without help a mere moment away. Being part of ANBU had spoiled me, be part of a team had. Self-reliance wasn't a main objective taught in the Hidden Leaf. Sure, everyone was encouraged to become the best they could, but no one ever prepared for a mismatched fight. Even my family, in all their arrogance failed to consider the possibility of…

Yet another reminder of what I'd done. And I was just starting to forget too…

With no one coming to my rescue, I watched for a better opening, one I could use without needing a kunai. I couldn't evade him forever, and I couldn't kill him by running away. So I watched. I waited. And I saw it.

From the instant I entered that clearing, his eyes hadn't left my face. In fact, his eyes remained locked on mine, even while my gaze darted about, inventorying my surroundings, opponents, and options, as well as keeping a portion of my mind devoted to my feet. Though dodging backwards is easy, avoiding the small holes, roots, and false floors created by litter is not so simple when the ground is riddled with hidden pitfalls. One false step would land me flat on my back, and probably dead.

But I could use that. After all, I had more than a few tricks up my sleeves, and the desperation slowly growing in his attacks told me he would be getting careless.

And, I had special eyes.

Luring Hidan into the space between me and his partner was easy. He followed me blindly, staring intently at my eyes, swearing at odd intervals as he continued missing my body and spending the rest of his time laughing with anticipatory glee. Once I had him, I locked one eye on him, tried to catch his partner with the other, then activated the Tsukuyomi.

Immediately, I realized the mistake. While I had Hidan in my jutsu, I had missed his partner. Even though I would only really be gone an instant, it was an instant of complete vulnerability, during which his partner could kill me as surely as I breathed. Three days in my own world seemed too brief to have much of an effect on the masochistic lunatic. Better make the most of it.

He was still laughing as I tortured him in my own dimension. A thousand blades over agonizingly slow seconds, for three days, and he laughed the entire time. I knew it hurt, knew how much pain I was inflicting as I tried to destroy his mind, but he just kept laughing. Towards the end, when I felt my strength flagging, I realized he was enjoying it. Finally, I had to release him, my strength drained almost completely.

Still laughing, he re-entered the real world, and I saw him through bleary eyes. Pain coursed through my temples, and my vision refused to focus. Instead of clearly defined faces, minute movement and even individual signs in jutsu, I could barely see colored blobs. Even that started to fade in a twisted blur of his laughter and shadows until I hit the ground. A brief moment of dulled panic coursed through me as I watched the blue blur of his sandaled feet approach, but after just a few heartbeats, everything went black.

Kakuzu sighed in annoyance and walked over to Itachi's fallen body. Kicking it over, he studied Itachi's face, particularly the slight teardrops of blood welling at the corners of his eyes. Hidan studied it too, the sighed.

"I never even got in a good hit. What fun is fighting if there is no pain? And he's bleeding, but I never touched him. What a weird kid."

"You seemed to enjoy it, especially his jutsu." Kakuzu pointedly ignored the "weird" comment, unwilling to waste more time arguing about Hidan's quirky religion.

"Well, that was a sacrifice. Three glorious days of sacrifice extended, and condensed into an instant. So, so good." Hidan savored the memory, practically drooling.

"Well, bring him along. I suppose someone able to capture others with a glance might be useful…and from the look of his headband he is a rogue…maybe there'll be a bounty issued."

Hidan sighed extravagantly.

"Fine, but I'm still not carrying the dead guy."

"Like I'd trust you with an investment like this." Kakuzu swung Itachi over his other shoulder. "Someone has to look after our finances."

Hidan spared a parting glance for the clearing and all the destruction, finally noticing the state of his wardrobe. Other than his blue Akatsuki robe with red clouds, which he shed before his first fight, his clothes were little more than tatters. His pants barely covered enough for modesty's sake, and his shirt was nonexistent. Scowling and fingering the shreds, he sighed, hating Kakuzu for being right about finances.

"I need a new shirt."

Author's note: So, another shortish chapter. This one is about 850 words though, which is better than my last three. And no cliff hanger. Sorry for any OOCness, but Kakuzu and Hidan are almost 10 years younger here than when they are introduced in the series, so their arguments and teamwork is a bit different, and I like to think they aren't quite so…corrupted (not quite the word I want, but it'll have to work for now) by their time in Akatsuki yet. For the record, as someone who took the time to review *cough cough…REVIEW…cough cough* was a bit confused, this story is meant to detail Itachi's time from when he killed his family to when he turns up again after the time skip. And no, Orochimaru didn't just walk through this story for the creeper factor. He'll be back. And creep some more. A few Leaf nin will also make an appearance, but not for a few chapters yet. Any requests can be left in reviews for consideration. REVIEW! Please. I like reviews. A lot.


	6. The Mind is a Strange Place

The Mind is a Strange Place

**Author's Note: MEEP! As I write this, I just got favorite-d by someone I don't actually know. I'm super excited. Thank you Echo Uchiha! You rock! End gush. I realize I haven't done a disclaimer in awhile, but, you all know I don't own, don't want to…etc. You read chapter 1 (I hope…otherwise you'll be a little confused…though apparently at least two of you skipped chapter 3…) Other notes, I know I've been changing the summary and category a lot, and that's because this story is changing, a lot. Kakashi does show up, soon, and will make a bigger appearance later. So. Also…if you wouldn't mind reviewing…feeling a bit like a broken record here…I know at least 10 of you have made it this far, and by now you got to have some sort of opinion. Good or bad.**

Strong arms encircled my shoulders. Rock hard muscle, flush with warmth and trembling with the force of the heart beat just centimeters from my ear, pressed against my side, infusing me with heat and a sense of security. The sheer comfort leached the ache from my body, and slowly drained the pain from my head. Even my eyes, taxed by the Tsukuyomi, felt better.

Hesitantly, I opened my eyes.

Steely grey irises met my black ones. For a moment, the look was harsh, but it softened slightly upon recognition. That was what I liked about him. Even carrying me at breakneck speeds through the forest, he managed to be all hard lines and soft edges.

"Kakashi…"

He stared at me for a moment longer, before a smile graced his eyes.

"Itachi."

I could almost feel the smirk hidden beneath that mask.

"Wait until we arrive. We'll talk then."

For some reason, I was content with that answer. Besides, with how fast he was moving, it wasn't like it would take very long for us to arrive anywhere. From his outfit, I gathered he was operating as an ANBU, not just a friend, but then, looking down, I realized I was dressed similarly. Not what I remembered wearing, but it didn't concern me overly much. Not when in his arms.

After all I have done, I didn't deserve this comfort, this safety. I had no right to feel safe when I had killed so many. But, this was like something out of my dreams, this feeling, this safety, this love. Deserving or not, I didn't want the moment to end.

I let my eyes drift closed, drifting into some sort of half sleep. His grace was such that I did not notice we had arrived until I felt him placing me on the ground. Cool, hard stone pressed against my back, icy on the bare skin of my shoulders and arms.

"You are hungry." Not a question. Not that Kakashi ever questioned. Anything.

Still, I nodded slowly, watching him set up camp in the small cave. The entrance, covered in trees and assorted bushes let only a pittance of light in, but I had no problem seeing him in the dark. His silver hair almost glowed in the half light. In no time he had a small fire glowing, not that I had noticed him gathering kindling or fuel for it.

I moved closer to the blaze, and Kakashi, on the pretense of warming myself against the chill in the air. He warmed some sort of stew in a pot I don't remember seeing him carry, then offered me some in a bowl. Until I grasped the dish between my hands, I didn't realize how frigid my fingers had become.

"We need to talk, Itachi." Kakashi broke the silence. Always straightforward. Always to the point. Always blunt.

"Why?" Kakashi stared at me, no judgment in his eyes, waiting for an answer.

"I…was under orders. From the Hokage." The question caught me off guard, strange in nature and in origin. For a moment, I forgot the secrecy of my mission, my oath to keep the details to myself.

"Is that it? Are you some dog, blindly obeying orders no matter the substance? They were your family. Your friends." His voice was strangely flat. Statements, all statements. Nothing in his voice portrayed even the slightest hint of disgust, loathing for what I had done. That seeming apathy was better than I deserved.

"I…I thought…the evidence…they were going to kill everyone. They were going to kill you." The words hurtled out of my mouth before I had a chance to think. I started to feel powerless.

"You seem calm, for someone who has just slaughtered his clan."

"I do not have the time to feel. You, the ANBU, are dogging my heels. I do not have time to rest my body, much less time to waste on thoughts."

"So you trap it inside. Smothering your feelings, and forcing yourself to keep moving forward."

"It is what I am trained to do, Kakashi. Yes, a part of my mind dwells on these things, but I cannot afford to acknowledge it."

"That part of your mind is killing you, Itachi. I saw your fight." I flinched inwardly, waiting for his criticism. "ANBU taught you better. You are unfocused, and that is making you weak. Or are you afraid?

"Perhaps you still see the blood dripping down your hands, feel the life draining away under your fingers, taste death on the tip of your tongue. And that fear is holding you back. Release it, and move on,"

"It is always so simple for you, isn't it, Kakashi? Always so calm and in control. I can't just let it out! There is no safe place to suffer that sort of emotion." I railed against his comment, fighting down the feelings he so accurately described.

"Here. You have a night with a companion you trust, and one who is strong enough to keep you safe. Take the opportunity."

I stared at him, thinking. How, unlike Kakashi, to suggest someone let go. But he was also right. I needed to feel everything before my avoidance got me killed.

Before I made the decision consciously, I felt hot tears pressing behind my eyes, and a strangled sob snuck past my lips.

And that is how I ended up in Kakashi's arms for a second time that day.

The weight of the memories threatened to crush me, and I felt like I couldn't breathe. Their dead eyes stared up at me from all sides, even with my own abused eyes pinched closed. All the pain wracked my body, and I shuddered violently within his strong embrace.

When my tears, my pain, my sorrow, were spent, I fell still and he drew me closer. At this point, he was almost cradling my smaller frame, as a mother would hold a child, or a lover his partner. His silver eyes met my reddened ones, and all I saw was compassion. He leaned closer, his forehead just inches from mine, his breath soft and warm on my face.

"Kakashi…" I breathed.

Just as he closed the gap between us, his lips gently brushing mine, I felt a sharp pain in my side. Gasping more from shock than from pain, I pulled back.

"Kakashi..."

The pain blossomed again, stronger this time, and I closed my eyes for a moment against the agony of broken ribs.

"Wake up, red-eyed demon of the Leaf."

"Kakashi…" the word passed my lips half formed, sounding more like a whimper than anything. Try as I might I could no longer feel his arms, or the heat of the fire. Water rushed in the background now, a dull roar at the periphery of my hearing.

"Wake up!" I felt more of my ribs crack, and tried to roll away. Tough cords bound my wrists and ankles, and I couldn't move. Dried blood crusted my eyes, and when I managed to pry them open, the world was blurry. Pain accompanied their slightest movement, like senbon needles poked delicately through my pupils.

"What use is this to Akasuki? He can barely open his eyes, and is little more than a child. What use is he?" I heard more comments of a similar nature from a host of unfamiliar voices all around me. The ANBU in me tracked their positions, noting their number and projecting their strength, but most of my thoughts centered around Kakashi.

None of it was real.

He never saved me.

Never held me.

Never pressed a gentle kiss to my murderous lips.

He wasn't coming for me.

He didn't love me.

I was utterly alone with these murderous lunatics.

It was precisely what I deserved.


	7. The Other Side

The Other Side

I suddenly understand why Tsukuyomi is so effective. Constant physical pain, incessant mental strain, there is only so much of this in combination that one can take. The Akatsuki pushed me beyond my limits and left me questioning my sanity.

For days I lived pain, breathed agony, and prayed for even a moment of respite. But the gods scorned me, rightfully, for I deserved no pity, no compassion, for my crimes, and this would be an unequal punishment for my actions. Only death could begin to atone for my acts. A pitiful beginning, but the most I could give.

Kept in the dark, in an out of the way room, my eyes at least began to heal, and much of the pain faded, though I could not tell if my sight was returning. Countless beatings and unspeakable torture made me weak. They were almost relentless, and cared little for the necessities of life. Food was a thin paste poured down my throat between beatings. Water was a rare gift.

Once, a man with a voice like spoiling honey knelt before me. Even with my eyes closed, I knew he had left a candle in the doorway behind me. As I was chained in the center of the room, it was small work for him to move before me, raise my head, and press a damp cloth to my cracked lips. I swallowed reflexively, pained by the dryness in my throat. My tongue snaked out to absorb every last drop of moisture.

"Easy, easy now," he murmured, lifting a flask to replace the cloth. "Slowly, or it will hurt." The first mouthful seemed like it didn't even make it to my throat. The parched skin in my mouth absorbed it all. The second went down like a blob of sand. He pulled the flask away then, and ran his fingers through my hair, untangling some of the mats and unfailingly avoiding all to the open wounds. I found myself staring at him, yet unable to see him.

"So you do have eyes. We were beginning to think Hidan was telling stories, again. They're almost black, aren't they." For an instant, I thought I saw silver eyes, Kakashi's eyes. I blinked and they were replaced by the indistinct shadows again.

His fingers traced the shadows under my eyes, a faint touch akin to a summer breeze. They danced down my jaw and neck, my bruised and bloodied arm, and finally reached my hand. Cradled in his palm, my hand burned.

"Your fingers are broken, and cold like ice. Do you know how many of them are ruined?" As the warmth flooded into the joints, a dull ache flared, telling me how right he was. I still couldn't answer him, but my gasp as he uncurled the digits served in place of words.

Something moved in the hall, sending echoes through the room. My companion started, pulling away from me as if bitten. Cold immediately began to reclaim my hands, seeping into the very marrow of my bones.

"I have to go, but I promise to speak to the others about this. Damaging your hands…it is unacceptable. To break a soul to a purpose is one thing, but to ruin a body in the pursuit of persuasion is pointless."

Without any form of farewell, he left, plunging the room into darkness again. As an Uchiha, my jutsu, my strengths, centered on fire. The agonizing chill of the room hurt me almost as much as the deliberate torture. Part of me wished he would have left the candle; the company of a flame, even for just a few hours, would have been welcome.

The shadows made me think of him. In some, I saw the curve of his mask when he smiled, and in others, the gleaming of his eyes when he was angry. In all, I saw his gentle reproach at my weakness. ANBU do not act this way. ANBU are not weak. ANBU fight, no matter the odds.

True to his word, my companion returned, interrupting my thoughts, my hallucinations. He cut the bonds from my wrists, allowing me to slump fully to the ground, my shoulders practically screaming from the extended abuse. Before I could think of trying something, he bound me with a quick jutsu, and began dabbing some sort of mixture on my wrists. Violent movements wrenched my mangled hands back into the semblance of shape, and a healing jutsu healed them the rest of the way.

"There will be a residual ache," he warned, "but you should be right as rain in a few days. By now, I suppose you are probably wondering why I am going to this trouble."

He took my extended silence as an affirmative.

"You see, Uchiha Itachi, you have an awesome power. From what Hidan describes, you are able to trap an enemy in an instant, and subject him to more pain than he has ever felt. In case you didn't notice, he's a bit of a masochist, so impressing him with pain is no small feat. And the Sharingan in itself is a valuable asset. One Akatsuki would be foolish not to utilize. Akatsuki is not foolish."

I suddenly knew where this conversation was heading, and felt something knot in my stomach, an emotion not quite akin to fear, but nothing comfortable, or remotely pleasant.

"Uchiha Itachi, would you like to taste power beyond your wildest imagination? You could make things right again in the world. You've seen the corruption, the blindness of those currently monopolizing control. Sarutobi, the Hokage. What right did he have to order you, a loyal, proud, strong _hero_ of the Leaf, to slaughter your family? Especially knowing you couldn't refuse him. What cruelty would prompt someone to that order?

"There were plenty of other ANBU available, other jonin, entire teams more suited to that mission. But he chose you. A fitting irony for the proud Uchiha to fall under their own prodigy's hand."

I shook my head slightly, and then looked down, avoiding the iron trap of his eyes. If I held that gaze any longer, I would never be able to say no. I had to say no.

"Come on, Uchiha Itachi. Do not deny what you know is true. He forced your hand in this matter, and I am offering you the opportunity to make things right again, to make amends for your actions. Will you really turn that down?"

Even in the full light of the lantern by his knees, his face was indistinct. Instead of his features, I saw Kakashi's once more, this time with anger in his eyes, as if he knew what I planned to say, and hated me for it.

"I deserve nothing more than death," I said, each word deliberately clear. No more half spoken garbled sighs would pass my lips. ANBU did not show weakness. ANBU did not break. ANBU did not suddenly acquiesce to the enemy's desires. I was no longer ANBU.

"When do I start?"


	8. Nothing to be Concerned About

Nothing to Be Concerned About

Kakashi Hatake was bored. While this was not an unusual occurrence, one can only read Icha Icha Paradise so slowly, and with the second volume still months from stores, each page had to last even longer. Running a gloved hand through his silver hair, he sighed, straightened, and returned the x-rated book to his weapons pouch.

Despite the afternoon heat, he wore the standard dark blue, long sleeved shirt and green flak jacket, even when most other Shinobi we discarding the uniform in favor of something better suited to the temperature. Not for the first time in his life, he despised the tattoo on his left bicep, marking him as a member of the ANBU black ops. Still an active member, he couldn't afford to let that knowledge become commonplace, so he suffered the dark blue abomination in silence.

At least if he melted he would have the consolation of knowing it was for a good cause.

With no mission to look forward to, thanks to a lack of contracts above C rank, he was resigned to slowly roast in silence. Drawing Icha Icha Paradise out of his pouch again, Kakashi slowly opened the front cover and began to read it again, from the beginning, reclining in the shade of an oak tree.

He was on page 32 when the messenger arrived. Flicking one eye lazily over the almost breathless man, before returning to the page. When the man still didn't speak, Kakashi snapped to book closed, scowled at the man, and snarled a testy "what?"

"The Hokage wishes to see you. Immediately."

Suppressing the urge to roll his eyes, Kakashi pocketed the book, meticulously brushed off a few invisible specks of dust, and gestured for the man to lead the way. Like proper Shinobi, they entered Sarutobi's office through the door rather than using the window as was Jiraya's habit, when the Sanin bothered to show up.

When the Hokage didn't acknowledge his presence, Kakashi's mind drifted back to his book, the weight of it tantalizing on his hip. Surely whatever Sarutobi wanted wasn't that urgent…

"Hatake Kakashi." Or maybe it was.

"The ANBU Black Ops have returned."

"And Itachi?"

"They could not find him. They lost his trail at a river and were unable to pick it up again."

"He is ANBU. I doubt they'd be able to find him by normal means."

"Which is precisely why you will take your hounds and find the trail, then call your team. Find and subdue Uchiha Itachi, and return him to the village for punishment.

"If you fail, I will be forced to send the tracker ninja to neutralize him."

Kakashi sighed, then nodded. Sarutobi was giving him a chance to save his student from a painful death.

"As you wish, Lord Hokage." Kakashi bowed and exited with all the dignity of a Jonin of his repute. It would not do for anyone to know that the famed Copy-Ninja's heart was racing, pounding against his ribs like a furious caged bird. It would not do for anyone to know that same heart skipped a beat at the mention of Itachi's name, or how it thrilled at the thought of being the one to find Itachi. No, these things could not be made public. Grateful for the mask hiding a the rising heat in his face, Kakashi drew a deep breath, sighed as if bored, and sauntered away in the typical Kakashi Hatake style. Yes, just another ordinary death-defying S ranked mission for the Copy Ninja. Nothing to be concerned about.

I stared down at my feet, trying to control my temper. Younger than many of the Akatsuki by almost a decade, I lacked much of their physical strength. Sure, I could throw a man twice my size a decent distance, but the Akatsuki could throw opponents for what seemed like miles. Against that much brute strength, I stood little chance, physically. No, what separated me from the others was my intellect. Kisame could tear an enemy apart a thousand ways, but I could outwit Kisame and stick a kunai in his heart before he ever noticed my presence. After the first few sparring bouts, the other members acknowledged my right to join their ranks and stopped trying to murder me in the halls. While their respect was difficult to earn, it wasn't the worst problem I faced.

The simple audacity of _assigning_ me a partner infuriated me. That it might be Hidan, or Deidara disgusted me. That it might be Zetsu or Kakuzu frightened me. The first two were too weak, physically less capable than me, and the latter were unsuited to my fighting style. But I wasn't allowed a voice in the matter, so I bit my tongue and studied my toes, rationalizing that it could be worse: Orochimaru could still be a member of Akatsuki.

"Kisame. Itachi." My head snapped up involuntarily, staring first at Pein, and then sliding over to Kisame. The blue shark-man? Interesting, but not surprising. Brute strength and cunning made an strong pair, which was why Hidan and Kakuzu usually worked together. Both of them were strong, but Hidan's elaborate plans inevitably fell apart without Kakuzu's support.

I flinched and ducked, startled out of my thoughts by a cold hand clenching the back of my neck and dragging me forward.

"This isn't going to be a long partnership if you can't keep your head out of the clouds, Uchiha," Kisame snarled. I twisted out of his grasp and sidestepped, glaring at him through my bangs.

"Itachi!" Pein snapped, wrenching my attention away from Kisame. Without waiting for me to apologize, or even say anything, he tossed a wad of fabric at me. It unfurled in the air, revealing the red cloud pattern. An Akatsuki cloak. I stared at it for a moment, then slid the long fabric around my shoulders and fastened it. When I looked up again to thank Pein, he was gone. I was alone in the stone chamber with Kisame.

"You'd better grow into that," the shark nearly sighed with irritation. He was right; I looked a little ridiculous. The cloak was too big for me, almost touching my feet when it should have only reached mid calf, and the sleeves ate my hands with inches to spare. The latter at least was easily solved through the simple decision to not put my hands arms in the sleeves. I wouldn't be fighting in the cloak anyway, and until it actually fit, I would just look ridiculous. I flashed him a tight smile, earning a disgusted glance, and pulled the cloak higher on my shoulders.

"Embarrassed to be seen with me?" I muttered, not expecting an answer. I didn't get one either, as Kisame had disappeared.

Alone for the first time in what seemed like a lifetime, felt myself relaxing. Other than the unfamiliar weight of a ring on my right ring finger and the new cloak trying to swallow me whole, I was free from any remembrances of the Akatsuki.

I slid out of the red clouds and folded the cloak, following the creases still in the fabric, and draped it over my arm. A quick stop by my room to put it away and I was totally free for a much needed walk in the sunshine.

Outside the oppressive stone halls and dim lighting, the world still danced with the change from Spring to Summer. So little time had passed, perhaps only a month or so, since I left Konoha, and sunlight still pushed through new leaves and flowers, painting the forest in shades of bright green accented with pinks and brilliant yellow gold. Once the caves were out of sight, gone from all my senses, I walked even slower, reminded of a childhood spent running through trees just like this.

Something caught in my throat and I choked back a sob. Slumping against a tree I felt the tears start to fall, unbidden and unwanted, from my eyes. Long overdue, the full horror of what I had done sank in. Wracking sobs shook my entire body so violently I could barely breathe.

Eventually either my eyes ran out of tears or my body ran out of energy for crying, because the tears slowed, and stopped. Feeling emptier than ever, eyes rimmed red, I rested against the rough bark of my tree. Slightly more rational for the sudden outpouring of emotion, I seriously contemplated my situation for the first time since I walked in the Hokage's office all those long weeks ago.

Nothing I could ever do would make this right. Even if they plotted a coup de tat, there was no reason to slaughter the entirety of the Uchiha clan. But I failed at even that, since Sasuke and I both still lived. No amount of debate or trial would change the fact that I had done a terrible thing in the Hokage's name, and failed to complete an order. I wanted to believe there was nothing more I could do.

I was lying to myself.

I found myself missing the village, the people, the places, mostly my ANBU partners. That bond was gone, broken by my own hand, and I was left all alone in the world. Lost in reminiscing, I figured the approaching chakra I felt was just a figment of a deluded mind.

"Hello, Itachi-kun." Wolf said.


	9. Awkward

Awkward

I stared at him. Clearly someone was trying to trap me in a twisted, demented genjutsu, because there was no conceivable reason why Kakashi Hatake would be standing in front of me, in the middle of nowhere, within walking distance of the Akatsuki hideout.

"Hello?" Wolf scratched the back of his head, his way of conveying any awkwardness he felt. I blinked a few times, and shook my head slightly to dispel the illusion.

"Release," I whispered, forming the appropriate handsign. He didn't disappear, but as the last of the tears were blinked out of my eyes his image sharpened. No, not Wolf, but the real Kakashi Hatake, in the flesh. The shadows across his face and the absence of his mask made it seem like he was in full ANBU attire, an effect heightened by his gray cloak. But even Kakashi wasn't cocky enough to get that close to a nest of killers in full ANBU gear.

"Kakashi-sensei?" I hedged, not caring that my voice sounded raw, like I'd been crying or screaming.

"Itachi-kun, I'm not your teacher anymore." Kakashi sighed; the words sounded harsher than he'd intended. I flinched slightly at the verbal barb, though I deserved it. The only reason he was no longer my teacher was my own stupidity.

"You shouldn't be here, Kakashi." I stood and directed the full force of the patented Uchiha glare at him. If my eyes looked half as sore as they felt, the effectiveness of my glare was probably less than 15%. "The Akatsuki will be looking for me," I continued, taking a gentler tack, "and if they find the renowned Copy Ninja, they won't hesitate to attack."

"So you're with Akatsuki now." Statement.

"Yes?" I answered, unsure of the answer myself.

"Willingly." Another statement, and I could see the anger in his eyes

"No." I was certain of this one. Of all the places to be in the world, attached to a group of psychopathic murderers with no sense of decorum, or a shred of really empathy, was definitely on the bottom of my list.

The sound of a blood drop striking the ground—like a thunder clap in the tense silence—drew my attention to his hand. A deep gash split open his thumb, a reminder that he'd managed to find me using his pack of Ninja Hounds. Ravenous, bloodthirsty, and horribly sarcastic beasts that he could summon at will and order to tear me apart. Unpleasant images of my imminent disemboweling flashed through my head.

"Then come back with me." Kakashi tilted his head slightly, drawing my attention back to that perfect face. Even the scar running through his sharingan eye—which, though focused on me with an unbelievable intensity failed to unnerve me as much as that cut on his thumb—could not mar his perfect beauty. Emotions I believed dead, slaughtered and crushed the night I left Konoha flared in my chest, my heart constricting painfully.

Could I still love him?

"Kakashi…"

"It's a yes or no question, Itachi. Will you come back to Konoha with me?" Could he still want me at his side? Did he still need me? My heart thrilled at the thought, but my mind knew the reality. That life, that chance was gone, and there was nothing I could do to change that.

"It isn't that simple." I tore my gaze away from his perfect face and stared blankly at the forest. "Nothing I do will change what I did. I murdered innocents, and failed in a mission entrusted to me by the Hokage." _And I was supposed to kill myself at the end, but I couldn't do it_ my mind added bitterly.

"The Hokage ordered me to bring you back." The last of the emotion in my heart soured. He was only here on orders.

"Lord Hokage orders many things, and not all of them can actually happen," I snapped, furious with him now. "Go home, Kakashi. You shouldn't be here." I turned my back on him, fully aware that if he had orders to kill me I was giving him the perfect opportunity. Part of me almost prayed that he would drive a kunai through my spine. Dying by his hand would be acceptable.

"Uchiha Itachi." The ANBU in me heard the command in his voice and I caught myself turning. Settling for a disinterested over the shoulder glare, I stopped, waiting for him to continue.

He grabbed my shoulder, threw me against the nearest tree and pressed his chest close to mine, his forehead pressed against mine, his breath brushing my lips.

"Someone's coming. Forgive me," he whispered, pressing his lips against mine gently, the force behind the kiss gradually growing. I gasped softly, the sound consumed by his mouth, and he took the opportunity to initiate a dance with our tongues. Shocked, off guard, and panicking about whoever was approaching—presumably one of the Akatsuki since Kakashi wouldn't be forcing his tongue down my throat (not that I was in a position to complain, mind you), if one of the other ANBU was coming—I tried to push him off. The transition between fantasizing about my own death to tasting his glorious mouth…was unnerving to say the least.

"Uchiha-kun, what are you doing—" Pein passed the tree, froze, and turned his head very slowly to stare. I finally succeeded in pushing Kakashi away, and stared at Pein. Heat rose in my cheeks, coloring them a rosy shade of pink. No need to feign embarrassment, at least. A quick glance at Kakashi showed he was wearing the perfect expression of embarrassment at being caught making out with me—with me!—and fear at this unknown presence. I realized Pein was waiting, rather impatiently, for a response, and flushed redder.

"Um, well….I needed some air…to think…" I hesitated, unsure of what else to say. '_Oh yes, feared Leader of Akatsuki. I just came out here to cry my eyes out, have a fight with one of my former ANBU team mates, then starting making out with him.´_ Pein stared at me expectantly, and I decided to stare down at my toes.

"You don't have to hide a lover, Uchiha." My head snapped up again, flinging my hair in my eyes. I brushed it away impatiently, taking the moment to hide my surprise.

"We are open about things here, and there is no tolerance for secrets among brothers. As long as your…attachments do not interfere with the missions, do not distract you from your duties, there is no problem with them, at least as far as I am concerned." Pein attempted what probably was supposed to be a smile, but looked like a grimace. Still blushing, I nodded a little too quickly.

"Still, I don't know that I approve of you wandering out here…alone…without your cloak." Pein pressed the folded garment into my hands, then watched expectantly for me to get dressed. I stole another quick glance at Kakashi, sighed, and draped the fabric over my shoulders. I refused to stick my arms through the sleeves though. No need to embarrass myself any more than necessary.

Pein abruptly turned on his heel and left, leaving us more than a bit confused. Once the Leader was safely out of earshot, Kakashi started laughing. Hysterically.

He gasped out something, rather brokenly, along the lines of "I…can't, tehehe,…believe, ha, that…that _worked!_" Kakashi lapsed back into a bout of what can only be described as giggling.

"Who was that?" he managed, finally controlling the laughter, which I believe stemmed more from the extremely close call with the leader of Akatsuki rather than amusement at my current state of clothing. My pride doesn't allow me to contemplate other possibilities.

"Pein. Akatsuki's leader. He doesn't much like me, I think."

"He brought you a jacket," Kakashi pointed out, scrutinizing me in much the same way as one might inspect a particularly stubborn stain when trying to decided what caused it.

"So everyone knows that I belong to Akatsuki, not out of some misguided sense of affection." I stared at the ground since my toes were obscured by the odd hemline of the cloak.

"Well, that's good, at least. He must really want you as a member. So, are we going to go in?" Kakashi smiled his most charming smile, one that I was unused to seeing in full, since his mask usually obscured the better part of his face.

"Kakashi, go home. Tell the Hokage…tell him that I…" I trailed off, unsure of what else to say. There was nothing _to_ say.

"Itachi, if you work with me, I have a plan." Kakashi's smile turned feral, and I had a sinking feeling. He grabbed my wrist and started dragging me back in the direction Pein had left in, the way to the Akatsuki hideout.

"Kakashi…once you get in, they aren't going to let you leave alive. It was sheer luck that Pein didn't recognize you. Kakuzu won't be so easy to fool, and Hidan will want to pick a fight just to get you to hurt him, not to mention the others, who will be after anything they can use as leverage.

"Regardless of what Pein said, these are not brothers; they're killers. If there is something they can hurt me with, they will do it, even if they have nothing to gain." I met his eyes, trying to convey just how serious I was through eye contact alone. The cavalier smile slowly spreading across his features told me he planned on ignoring me no matter what I said.

"That works well," he tugged on my wrist harder, leaving me no grounds for resistance, "since I have a _plan._" He pulled sharply to accent the last word. Knowing from years of experience that at this point, any further attempts to dissuade or stall his "plan" would prove fruitless, I gave in and allowed him to lead on.

After only a few steps, Pein's trail disappeared, and rather than summon his hounds again and reveal his identity for anyone within three miles in possession of three brain cells or a Bingo Book, he allowed me to take charge.

Having Kakashi Hatake follow meekly behind me was almost as unsettling as kissing him, and I couldn't shake the feeling that he intended to kill me.

"Sarutobi-sama ordered me to bring you back, for punishment." Kakashi broke the uneasy silence between us and did his best to keep pace beside me, though the quasi trail we followed was barely wide enough for one.

I made a noncommittal "Hn." Let him figure out whether I thought that was a good plan or a bad one.

"I don't think I can do it." He intended the statement to startle me, and it did, but I didn't let him see it. Good Shinobi don't show emotions, and if I wasn't a good Shinobi, I was nothing.

Before he could continue, we reached a sheer stone cliff face, butted right up against the edge of the forest. I made a few had signs, shielding them from Kakashi's Sharingan with my body, then pressed my ring against the stone.

Red dust billowed out as the rocks shifted, melted, and morphed into an ornate arch, covered in kanji and symbolic carvings. When I told Deidara what I wanted to represent me in the design, the final spot would be filled, the sculpture complete. Kakashi hesitated, studying the arch.

"What does it say?" he squinted at the Kanji and frowned. I shrugged.

"Deidara changes it every time I turn around. It isn't worth taking the time to read every time I go in or out."

"So you travel freely?"

"Mostly." I rubbed the bridge of my nose, fighting off a post crying headache. "As you noticed, someone always knows where I've gone, but usually they leave me be. Zetsu doesn't think I'm worth the effort of being followed. It's not like they really include me in meetings or on missions yet. Pein wants me to be a bit stronger first."

"You seem to trust Pein."

I led him through the maze of corridors, looking more confident than I felt about actually finding my rooms. Talking about the Akatsuki leader in the halls had the side effect of summoning him, and one close call with him was more than enough for one day.

A few wrong turns and a bit of aimless walking in circles led us to my room, marked by a giant version of the character on my ring. With a very un-Shinobi glance back down the corridor, both embarrassing and ridiculous as the other eight Akatsuki were about as careful about masking their chakra within the compound as an Akimichi is about dieting, I practically threw Kakashi through my door.

"Nice place." Kakashi eyed the bare stone walls, and matching stone floors. The only breaks in the monotony came from my wardrobe—stocked with a few changes of clothes and a spare pair of shoes, along with an odd looking straw hat that seemed to have a bell dangling from it—a desk, and a simple bed.

While he examined my new residence, I reached behind my head to tighten my hitai-ate. Ever since I left the village it seemed like the head band was perpetually falling off.

"I don't trust him, but I respect him. Pein is strong, and clever, from what I have seen, and some of the others fear him. He has never been anything but friendly, which makes me mistrustful. I am forever wary—"

"Of the open hand reaching from the shadows." Kakashi smiled as he finished the old adage. "Ready to hear my plan?" he asked. He understood my silence to be a yes.

"Spy for Konoha. The Akatsuki is climbing the list of dangerous rogue Shinobi, and sooner or later someone from ANBU would have ended up trying to infiltrate them. You're in the perfect place."

"Konoha won't have me back, Kakashi. Not after what I've done. Why should I risk my life to spy for the Leaf?"

Kakashi was suddenly in front of me again, staring down into my eyes. He grabbed my chin and pressed his lips to mine, a shadow of our earlier kiss, this one chaste and undemanding, where the last had been nothing short of a command.

"I cannot watch them kill you, Itachi." Kakashi pressed his forehead against mine, eyes closed. "No matter what I do, you'll die. If I let you stay here, one of these Akatsuki will either kill you or get you killed on a mission, and if I drag you back to the Leaf, Sarutobi will have you executed. This is the only way I can think of to keep you safe."

"Kakashi…"

"If you give us information, I'll be able to protect you, and you'll eventually be able to come back, once things have calmed down. Please."

"I can't."

He kissed me again, and my mind went blank.

**A/N**

Originally, this chapter was going to be longer, but, I have decided to split it in half for several reasons, not the least of which being this is about to change ratings in a big way. So. Fair warning, the next chapter will be M. for a reason. If you don't like it, skip to chapter 11, and I'll provide a PG summary of events. For those of you who are suddenly very interested in chapter 10…it should be up soon-ish.

P.S. Special thanks to Hatake Kazumi, Light Lamperouge, mmagicwolf, Echo Uchiha, rain-of-the-soul, and Me () for reading, reviewing and/or favoriting. Your love makes this fic possible. Thank you.


	10. Don't Come Back

Don't Come Back

**A/N**

Chapter 10 is here! Finally. Just a recap of previous warnings: This is rated M for a reason. It is a lemon, and it is yaoi. If either of these things offend you, or you don't know what they are, please skip to the next chapter. I'll recap any important events in a short summary at the beginning. Or, skip down to the black line. I promise it's PG-13 after that. So. On to the story.

His lips against mine were like heaven. His fingers twisted in my hair, an angelic massage. But nothing compared with the taste of him. My conscious mind was too far gone to resist, but a baser part of me placed a palm flat on his chest, and shoved him away perhaps a bit more forcefully than necessary.

I'm fairly certain I moaned at the loss, but then again, I wasn't really thinking clearly.

"Ita-kun…" Kakashi gave me a most un-ANBU look, like I'd just kicked his newest puppy and then laughed about it.

"We can't do this, Kakashi. I can't let you do this." I leaned against the cold stone wall, fighting some of the heat surging through my body. But he pressed close again, his body so flush with mine I swear I felt his heart racing against my chest

"You aren't _letting_ me do anything, Itachi." Kakashi snarled into my ear before taking hold of it with his teeth. As he trailed kisses down my neck, pausing to pay particular attention to my pulse point, I felt him slide the cloak open further. His hands pressed against my ribs, holding me with enough force to keep me perfectly still and at his mercy.

I flailed my arms a bit, trying to pull them free of the encumbering cloak, but between his body, hands, and that thrice accursed fabric, I couldn't move. He smirked against my neck and brought his face back up to mine, foreheads separated only by my hitai-ate.

"You think this is wrong because Shinobi aren't supposed to have emotion. Am I wrong, Ita-kun?" Kakashi wiped all traces of a smile from his face and stared at me. His eye swam with a thousand shades of gray, from the soft gray of predawn twilight to the harsh and commanding color of a cloud before a storm, and I found myself enraptured by it and the desire it proclaimed, even more so than by the Sharingan swirling lazily in his left eye. Sharingan I could see anytime I looked in a mirror, but that gray, so expressive and mysterious at once, left me enthralled.

I felt no desire to escape.

"But right here, right now," Kakashi freed one of his hands from my side, and cupped the back of my head again, gently twining his fingers in my hair and massaging. "We aren't Shinobi." He pulled back entirely. My head band clattered to the floor, loudly. I hadn't realized it was loose.

Hesitantly, I stepped forward and started to shrug out of the cloak. Regardless of where this went, I wanted my hands free.

Kakashi seized the opportunity to shuck the cloak off me and throw it across the room. His lips met mine again—I was beginning to think there was some sort jutsu involved, since no matter what I said or did, he always returned to kissing—and his fingers toyed with the fishnet weave across my shoulders. On impulse, I touched his face and traced his scar. He paused for a moment, pulled back to change angles and dislodge my hand, and then closed his eyes to continue kissing me.

Taking the hint, I drug my fingers through his silvery hair. They caught for a moment on a tie at his nape, but no sooner did my mind register the offending object than it hit the floor. Sometimes my fingers are more clever than I can fathom. Once firmly established, I used my grip to pull him closer still—so close already, is it possible?—and deepen our kiss.

Kakashi moaned appreciatively, and his hands cascaded down to my waist. They lingered there, tracing small circles on the crests of my hips, but I really couldn't spare much thought for them, since I was distracted by his tongue.

I will never be able to think of tongues in quite the same way again. How such an innocent thing as a conversation, an argument really devolved into this…this…gods how his tongue met mine had to be the greatest sensation I ever felt.

We pulled back for air and his hands skimmed under my shirt, pushing it over my head in an instant.

"Kakashi," I breathed. His lips reattached to my neck and he made a sound suspiciously like a "Hn."

"Kakashi…wait." He stopped instantly, muscles tensing. Something other than desire crept into his eyes and I tried to smile reassuringly, though the effort fell flat. It had been too long since I last expressed emotion, and for some reason even trying felt somehow wrong. Not wanting to ruin the moment, I hurried on. "You look warm."

Judging by his reaction that sounded as terrible as I feared. He quirked an eyebrow and I grabbed his cloak with trembling hands—I cursed them for shaking. What kind of Shinobi trembles, honestly I was more than pathetic—and threw it to the ground. His shirt, also black fishnet, soon joined it on the ground.

"Satisfied?" he whispered, breath hot on my too sensitive skin. I just shook my head. _No_ But he ignored me, kissing me and slowly backing me toward the bed. My stomach knotted with something not quite like fear.

Hands ran down my ribs lightly, the calloused palms barely brushing my skin. I groaned into the kiss and arched towards him, in need of more contact. He smirked. Unable to stay still, he gripped my hip tighter with one hand and ran the other up the planes of my torso and started tracing a circle around my nipple.

Tease.

Still, even at that minimal contact, it felt too good. My knees went weak and I fell back on the bed, dragging him with me. The jarring landing knocked our teeth together. I grimaced and tasted blood. I'll never know if it was mine or his. Ever the clear headed one, Kakashi seized the moment to shift me fully on the bed and get comfortable on top of me. He didn't actually touch me, or sit on me, or anything of that nature. It was more like he was hovering over me, studying me.

"Beautiful." He breathed the word. I'm certain I blushed because he leaned over and kissed me, then pressed gentle kisses to each of my eyelids. He braced his palms on my chest—and gods, how his hands got that warm and rough is just unfair—and sat on my thighs.

I stared up at him, breathing heavily. Fire coursed through my blood, and the sight of him, half naked and perched on my lap like he owned the thing, did nothing to douse the flames. The back of my mind played out every possible way to reclaim the dominance in this situation. If I grabbed his wrist, a quick snap of my hips would over balance him, and from there it would be as simple as breathing to break through his leg guard and gain dominance. I could throw my legs up and catch his neck with my ankles, drag him backwards and tackle him. I could throw him off the bed.

Strangely, I really didn't want to do any of these things. Having him there felt right.

His lips descended on my chest, and he toyed with my nipple with his tongue. His free hand caressed the other one, and all the heat in my body rushed to my groin. I bit my lip, trying to suppress the sounds building in my throat. Shinobi do not mewl. Shinobi do not moan. Shinobi do not beg. Then Kakashi's earlier words echoed through my head. "We're not Shinobi."

I moaned, loudly. When he moved to the other side, I mourned the loss of sensation, though it was gone for only a moment. His hands raced up and down my sides, pausing erratically to clutch at my hips or ribs, but ignoring the sensitive nubs on my chest entirely. His tongue paid them more than enough attention.

After a particularly arousing lick, and a very wanton moan from me, Kakashi kissed my lips softly.

"Let yourself feel this, Ita. Let go for me." Hands on my hips slid lower, toying with the waist band of my pants. Suddenly uncomfortable, I tried to wriggle away, but succeeded only in slamming my head against the wall. Flashes of white hot pain shot through my skull and brought burning tears to my sore eyes.

"Hold still, and enjoy, Itachi. This won't hurt." Kakashi seemed amused by my pain.

"Bastard," I snarled, and tried to push him off, wishing I had a tenth of Kakuzu's strength. My attempt at escape left him crouched over my shins.

His hand descended on the painful warm bulge at my groin and squeezed gently.

"You don't mean that. Now, relax." He unbuttoned the button, staring at it intensely, like it planned on attacking him. He flashed me what I can only describe as a sultry smile, and grabbed my zipper with his teeth, yanking it down in one smooth motion. At that moment, his breath hot on my most sensitive skin, separated from bliss by a layer of sheer fabric, I knew I could never say no to him. I would never be able to deny him, or push him away. I would never want to.

He pulled my pants off the rest of the way, tracing the toned muscles of my thighs as he did. When the fabric caught on my shoes, he ripped those off too, and the entire bundle flew to some dark corner of the room. The breeze of their passing caused the candles to flicker erratically and snuffed some entirely.

Kakashi rubbed small circles on my skin with his thumbs while he stared at me. I watched his eyes linger on my scars, stripes of silvered skin barely visible in the half light of the candles. The sharp ridge wrapping around my right side, cutting across my ribs and ending just below my hip, intrigued him enough to warrant a touch. Shivers ran down my spine when he traced it with a fingertip.

"Beautiful." He kissed me. "Absolutely beautiful." His hand closed around me and jerked up sharply. I gasped. He repeated the motion.

My lower lip split open, my teeth sinking into the flesh in an attempt to stifle the involuntary sounds echoing deep in my chest. I tasted blood, but didn't care. If he had any idea how many times I'd fantasized about him doing just that he'd run for the hills screaming that Gai had corrupted me.

His lips replaced his hand, sucking, licking, kissing, and nibbling all over my engorged flesh, his freed hand sliding lower to caress me. Warm, soft, heaven.

One finger prodded my entrance. I pulled back, surprised, but allowed him to try again. Freeing his mouth, he gazed up at me, eyes locking with mine. Both the crimson and the gray were dark with want, and there was nothing in the world more arousing, more frightening.

"Any lube?" he asked, unsure for the first time that evening. I sensed the second, deeper question behind it. Kakashi was asking if he was the first.

"Never had the occasion to need it," I blinked slowly. This would not turn out well if he stopped now. The momentary glow of his affection was already beginning to fade, throwing me back into the void of emotionless hell. My last lifeline to the semblance of sanity was fraying with each passing moment.

"I'll see what else you have then, and we'll improvise." Another trademark Kakashi smile. Small wonder people found him so intimidating—there was no stopping him when he set his mind to something.

Not that I was complaining.

He was only gone an instant. A click, pop, and plop told me he found something deemed suitable in my attached bathroom. Sudden cold against me confirmed the suspicion. I should have been tense, afraid, nervous, at the very least concerned about what he was doing, but I trusted him. He managed to guard my life thousands of times over the years; he knew nearly everything about me. With him, I was safe.

I wanted him to stay with me.

Fingers curled and flexed inside me, dancing around the perfect place. He knew exactly where it was, and just how to avoid it and drive me crazy. They multiplied, twisting and stretching and avoiding until I felt ready to burst at the seams from tension. All at once, the sensation vanished.

One moment of hesitation, the only time I've ever seen it from him, one instant of blunt pleasure, then bliss as he struck the spot. Pain coursed up my spine as well, but it was not a stranger to me, and it hurt far less than it was blissful.

He held still for a long time, reveling in the feel and waiting for my permission to continue. I waited a long time for the sensation to become comfortable, for the muscles of my back to relax Once I was certain his movements wouldn't tear me apart—I didn't have the luxury of not being able to walk in the morning like the pretty boys in romance novels—I gave him a slight nod. When he didn't immediately respond I wondered if he'd seen. The harsh exhale was the only warning he gave me.

I forced my eyes open as our bodies established a messy half rhythm. I needed to see him, to imprint this moment in my mind forever. The look on his face, half intense concentration, half extreme bliss, was more than worth the effort. Eyes half lidded with desire, he moved with me, against me, in such a perfect way I could feel desire mounting, pooling below my stomach and knotting ever tighter.

One of his hands wormed its way between us, touching, stroking, jerking against the pulse of his thrusts. The mismatched timing drove me over the edge, white flooding my vision and every muscles tensing. The sudden clenching trapped him in place, and the quivering muscles drew him over as well. He collapsed on top of me, chest hot and sweaty, panting lightly.

We stayed like that for a long while, his face buried in the crook of my neck, hearts racing from excitement. Even though he was restricting my breathing and half crushing me, I waited for him to move on his own, unwilling to be the first to break the contact.

Eventually he did, rolling onto his side and pulling me close again. I was surprised at how well we fit, and how he managed to keep his head buried against my neck. It was comforting to have him so close, and I had no problems drifting off into a blessedly dreamless sleep.

My eyes snapped open to a dark room. The last of my candles chose that moment to gutter, telling me it was close to midnight. Carefully wriggling from his grasp, I slipped out of bed without waking Kakashi. After a brief stop at my wardrobe for some underwear and pants—I had no intentions of wandering the compound in the dead of night commando—I left my room, locking the door behind me.

Crappy even when I could see where I was going, my blind navigation was only slightly more terrible, making it a miracle that I managed to find my way to the room I wanted to begin with. Once inside, I lit the table lamp and gathered the powders I required. A few measurements on the scale gave me the proper quantity, and I dumped it all into a plain paper packet, which I stowed in my pocket.

I snuffed the candle and shut the door firmly behind me.

The trip back to my room was faster, as if my feet remembered the proper path when my mind couldn't. Back in my room, I padded into the bathroom, filled two glasses with water, and dumped the powder in one. I swirled it until the crystals dissolved.

Padding back into the room, I sat on the bed and took a long, loud gulp of water.

"About time you got back." Kakashi shifted behind me, fingers tracing abstract patterns down my spine. I shoved a cup into his hands.

"Drink." Without turning, I knew he followed my command. His cup clinked as he dropped it on my nightstand. Kakashi resumed tracing.

"You got dressed." It almost sounded accusatory.

"I was cold." The lie came too quickly, too easily, for comfort. Kakashi seemed to buy it though, because he pressed a kiss to my neck and whispered in my ear.

"I can fix that."

Only seconds later the bliss was back, his chest pressed against my back, my knees and palms braced on the bed. It was harsher this time, faster and harder, and the sensations were even stronger. He pressed what seemed like miles inside me, angling to hit the perfect spot that was suddenly so elusive. Once he found it, he struck it every time, turning my arms to jelly. I collapsed as he came, and the pressure pushed me over too.

I fell asleep like that, Kakashi sprawled on top of me. Just before oblivion claimed me, his lips met mine gently, light as a feather. I was going to miss him.

A shaft of light across my eyes woke me, but I didn't stir. Kakashi probably just had to…no, his weight still pressed down on me. Grudgingly, I pried one orb open, half scowling at the blurred figure before me. As he swam into focus, I saw the telltale blue skin. Kisame.

"What do you want?" I mumbled. I leveraged myself up on one elbow and rolled to face him, giving Kisame a good view of my chest and throwing Kakashi face down on the bed. Double victory.

"Am I…interrupting something?" I swear if Kisame was capable of blushing, he would have been a dark purple. I filed that particular tidbit away for future reference. Kisame felt uncomfortable walking in on people, which made him several notches less perverted than about half the other members of Akatsuki.

"No," I shook my head slightly, flinging the loose black strands out of my face. "We were just sleeping. You have excellent timing, though."

"Listen, kid, I know Pein said we were partners and all, but I don't—"

"This is a strictly business request. I need you to help me take him back to Konoha."

Kisame's eyes drifted from my face to the slender curve of my arms, and the pale man still half draped on top of me. The light from the door left both our ANBU tattoos clearly visible, and I felt his eyes linger on it.

"Back to Konoha?"

"He's ANBU. If he stays, Pein will kill him, have him killed, or torture and maim him."

"And you care too much to let that happen? Emotional attachment is dangerous, Uchiha."

"Precisely why I need to take him back. If something happens to him here, I am responsible. He is a Shinobi. I won't delude myself into thinking that he will always come back, but at least in the village, it won't be on my conscience."

"You killed your entire clan, and you're worried about one more person's death?"

"I wouldn't ask if I would succeed on my own, Hoshigaki-san. I need help." I tried to look as small and weak as possible without being pathetic. I knew from watching the shark man scream at Deidara that he hated pathetically weak people above all else. Which probably explained why his last four partners mysteriously and inexplicably vanished, collectively surviving six months with him.

I must have succeeded, because he nodded sharply before sweeping out of my room. Funny, I could have sworn I locked the door behind me...

Certain he wasn't coming back in, I threw back the covers and crossed to my wardrobe. I donned a clean set of clothing, then pulled my old ANBU outfit from the bottom of the stack of clean clothes. Most of it was stained with blood beyond any hope of salvation, but my gloves were still spotless, having been in my pockets during…that night.

I retrieved Kakashi's clothing from various corners of the room. Forcing him into them was more difficult than I'd anticipated when I concocted my scheme. Unconscious ninja are very difficult to manipulate. During the process, I managed to get smacked in the face twice and knocked his head against my nose hard enough to make my eyes tear slightly. His weapon's pouch contained both the black cloth mask and his hitai-ate. The easiest part of the entire endeavor was pulling a mask over his perfect features.

With him dressed, I grabbed my cloud cloak and the strange, jingly straw hat, and headed out, unconscious Copy Ninja draped over my shoulders like a second cloak. He was so tall his toes drug on the ground as I walked.

Kisame waited in the main hallway, two large packs at his feet.

"We have a mission, after this. Supplies." He kicked one by way of clarification.

I nodded, shifting Kakashi into a slightly less awkward place on my back so he wouldn't fall as I grabbed one of the packs.

Without further delay, Kisame opened the same arch Kakashi and I had used the previous night. I read the kanji as I walked, remembering Kakashi's curiosity.

_A Broken Heart can still beat. _

I made a note to tell Kakashi that when he woke, then remembered that if I measured properly he wouldn't wake before we reached Konoha.

Our journey was mostly silent. During the first day, I don't think Kisame said two words to me, and if you don't count his command for me to "Sleep," he didn't say anything. It was during the second day of the trip that I realized why.

Kisame stared at me, not bothering to watch where he was going. I'd shifted Kakashi into my arms, head braced against my chest, so he wouldn't knock against anything while I moved, but I still had to be vigilant. With him occupying my hands I couldn't afford any missteps.

"Did you need something?" I asked, sick of the scrutiny.

"I'm thinking. Shut up." Kisame growled.

Thus ended attempts at starting conversation on my half. Almost three hours later, I caught Kisame staring again. I glared at him.

"You're both ANBU." He said, eyes fixated on my arm, even though the tattoo was covered by my cloak.

"Yes."

"Is that how you met?"

"We went to the Academy together, but he graduated a year before me."

"He's older?"

"By three years."

"So you're…together?"

"No. He was my sponsor into ANBU, and my mentor once I joined. The Hokage sent him to kill me."

"So you always sleep with people sent to kill you?"

"You could say that, since he's the only one who has ever been sent to kill me."

He made a noncommittal sound and fell silent. We made camp in silence, and I took watch. While I sat in the still darkness, I poured some water into Kakashi. I intended to reach Konoha around noon the following day, and didn't want to leave a Kakashi raisin at the gates. Something told me returning the Copy Ninja near death from dehydration wouldn't make the proper impression.

Satisfied he wouldn't shrivel up and die on me during the night, I propped him against a large oak and crawled into its branches. Near the top, I found a suitably sturdy branch that afforded me a decent view of the surrounding area, and the night sky. The height of summer left few gaps in the ancient canopy, but one was enough for me to watch the sky for ANBU messengers.

I listened to the night, comforted by the familiar sound of wind in the trees and the nocturnal rustlings so common in the forest. I paid particular attention to the bird calls, well aware that if ANBU was planning something, those would be the sounds they used as signals.

Kisame woke shortly after midnight to take over. The small movements of sitting up and stretching echoed through the stillness.

"If you hear a barn owl, wake me up. There have already been three calls tonight, from three different birds, which is more than there should be in one area. Any more…" I trailed off, noting confusion in his eyes.

"What does a barn owl sound like?" I stared at him incredulously. He lived in a forest and didn't know what a barn owl sounded like? And he expected me to trust him with my life this close to Konoha? Not likely.

"Go back to sleep, I can finish the watch." I gestured dismissively and settled back on the tree branch, one foot dangling lazily. I could feel his eyes on me, but didn't look down. Let him feel useless for a while. Eventually he went back to his place beside Kakashi and slept, leaving me to watch and listen for the mysterious barn owl.

A single crow winged overhead, passing in front of the moon. I dropped out of the tree, grabbed Kakashi and my pack, and kicked Kisame's foot.

"Get up. They've found us."

We started running towards the village. I planned on evading them until we could drop Kakashi at the gates. The strange thing was I couldn't sense any chakra. I knew my former team mates were good at suppressing their presence, but in the past I had always known where they were, like one knows where a friend is in a dark room. It had always been instinctual.

After fifteen minutes, I realized I was mistaken. The crow wasn't a messenger, just an angry bird disturbed from a comfortable sleep. I snuck a quick glance at Kisame. He knew. He said nothing. We kept running. I hated my paranoia. My intuition used to make me an excellent Shinobi, but my reliance upon it had just made me seem imbecilic in front of a shark skinned man looking for an excuse to kill me.

We reached the village shortly before daybreak.

The gigantic gates were closed and locked for the night, so I propped the unconscious Copy Ninja against them. I withdrew a well folded piece of paper from my weapons pouch as well as my ANBU gloves. While Kisame waited, impatiently a few hundred feet into the forest, I slipped the gloves on Kakashi, tucked the paper between his left palm and the fabric, and pinned a second note to his chest with a senbon, this one sealed with my chakra, so there would be no doubts that I had written it.

Both pages were hastily scrawled messages, scribed in the dead of the first night of our trip. Darkness, exhaustion, and the need to keep them secret from Kisame left my writing nearly illegible, and less coherent than I would have liked.

Finished, but unwilling to leave just yet, I stood and ran my fingers down one of the doors. The smooth wood mocked me, just one of the countless barriers preventing me from returning. Somewhere inside those gates, my family rested uneasily in their graves, their ghosts left with only Sasuke to mourn them.

Somewhere inside those gates, Sasuke slept, dreaming of the day when his kunai would pierce my heart.

A hand gripped my ankle, jerking me out of my morbid reverie.

Kakashi groaned softly, eyes pinched shut against the pain he surely felt.

"Whats…" he began, but I crouched in front of him and silenced the words with my hand.

"I'm sorry, Kakashi. It was the only way to get you back safe."

"You drugged me." He glared.

"Yes. You wouldn't have cooperated. We're at the gates of Konoha. Don't let the medics take off your left glove. Stay safe. Try not to get yourself killed…Take care of Sasuke. Don't let them use him."

"Itachi…"

"Quiet. I have to go. Thank you, for everything. I…" I glanced up, hearing movement on the walls. Impulsively, I pulled down Kakashi's mask and kissed him fiercely. The footsteps drew nearer, and I pulled back enough to whisper in his ear.

"Don't come back."

Meeting his confused gaze for an instant, I turned and ran for the forest, forcing chakra to my feet to increase my speed. My hat jingled sporadically. If Pein would have seen me then, he would have killed me for embarrassing the Akatsuki organization.

I reached Kisame as he formed the last hand sign for a mist jutsu, immediately immersing us in a back of damp gray cloud. Dawn tried to cut through, but managed only to illuminate the entire mass of fog and eliminate what little visibility was left by the jutsu. Confident no one would be able to follow, Kisame led the way at a stately walk.

_Chime, Chime, Chime._

We walked in morose silence for almost an hour before he spoke.

"When were you going to tell me you were sleeping with the Copy Ninja?"

A/N

Phew! A super long chapter! And lemony goodness too! Poor Kakashi, left on the stoop of Konoha like an unwanted kitten…

Anybody still think Itachi's evil?

Questions, comments, concerns, and conversations about the weather *coughs* are appreciated. Reviews score double.

And if any of you are interested, I wrote a SasuNaru oneshot, called 42 seconds…hint hint….

All right! Now that the tension is building, I'll leave you to sit and wonder how Kakashi will be received at the village, and how Itachi plans on making this long distance relationship work!

R&R!


	11. In the Shadows

In the Shadows

**A/N: **Hello! It's been an eternity and a half. And a day. Sorry. As all of you know, life gets in the way sometimes. But here it is! (Finally). And, as promised, a brief summary of last chapter for those who preferred to skip. (and for those of you who claim to have skipped but really did read it. You know who you are.)

Itachi and Kakashi have a…um... sleep over. Itachi cunningly tricks Kakashi into drinking drugged water, then they engage in more…activities…so the drug spreads completely and becomes effective quickly. In the morning, Kisame walks in on the aftermath of the… sleep over, is embarrassed, but agrees to help Itachi take Kakashi back to the Leaf. Itachi embarrasses himself by being overly paranoid and Kisame reveals that he is quite clueless about deciduous wildlife. Kakashi wakes up in time to share a rushed farewell with Itachi, who abandons him at the gates of the Leaf with the words "Don't come back."

There. 5300 some odd words in a paragraph. The chapter is better. Now. A few more housekeeping type things before we get on with the show. Thank you! To everyone who has read, reviewed and/or favorite/alerted this story. (and for those oh so subtle reminders to update…Thanks () Me! I appreciate the sarcasm.) That said, keep up the good work, and, as always, reviews score double! (I feel like the universe is conspiring against this chapter. First by keeping me from writing, then by trying to delete half my chapter. (thank insertdeity for autorecover.) Take that word. You thought you could win. You were wrong. Victory. Is. Mine.)

Callused fingers twisted through my hair, firm and demanding as the lips pressed against mine. A chest pressed so close to me I could feel every rippling muscle, the racing heart. Phantom fingers traced my body, touching every inch, exploring. I could almost feel him inside me still, hear the sultry sounds he made. I reached out for him, to draw him closer, but I was alone. Terribly alone. Always alone now.

I spent most of the day studying my feet. Kakashi's absence, the lack of weight in my arms or over my shoulders, tore at me, leaving me quiet and sullen. Wanting him back at my side became a physical ache until I nearly drowned in the pain.

Kisame stayed silent, leaving me alone in my misery. I think he understood, after the first glare, that I was in no mood to be trifled with. The patented Uchiha glare never failed to create a strict silence when I needed one. Looking back, I wonder what he thought of Kakashi and I, and what he planned to do. During our journey I earned his promise of silence concerning Kakashi's identity, but the Copy Ninja was worth an enormous bounty, one that would be difficult to refuse. I wondered how much I could trust the large blue ninja.

Twice we were attacked by robbers, and twice Kisame watched idly while I smashed the men into oblivion. He didn't comment, and I didn't press him for his opinion. Regardless of the outcome, he would report on my strengths to Pein, who would either be pleased or kill me. It didn't bear much concern.

We followed the sun as we could see it through the trees, which effectively led us in an imperfect circle. Kisame seemed either oblivious to this fact, or feigned indifference to see how long it would take me to notice. The more time he wasted, the longer I had to sort my feelings. And forget about Kakashi, and his delicious mouth, and his clever hands…

xXxXXxXx

Kakashi slumped against the door, still more than half asleep and unable to feel anything beyond his head. He could still hear the movements on the wall overhead, which made him wonder if Itachi had been discovered. The sounds fostered a small resentment in his heart, stemming mostly from the sudden feeling of loss that manifested with Itachi's departure. Before the mission to recover the raven, Kakashi knew loneliness, abandonment, but those feelings were always masked by something stronger. Anger, scorn, pride, fear. Hope. Even then, completely alone and at the mercy of the world, Kakashi nursed a sliver of hope that Itachi would be fine.

Fog slowly rolled in, obscuring the place where Itachi had disappeared. Despite this, Kakashi continued to stare, even as his eyes began to drift closed again with exhaustion. Itachi's drugs still coursed through his body, rendering the Copy Ninja almost completely immobile. Aside from the slight ability to turn his head and speak in short bursts, Kakashi was numb, and too apathetic to push the numbness away. Someone from the village would stumble into him on the way out of the village, and that someone would be the perfect person to call a medical ninja. Eyelids dropped ever lower, until the lashes touched and stayed down.

Until a particularly loud thud startled him out of his half sleep.

"Hatake Kakashi. I should have known a dedicated Shinobi such as yourself would take advantage of this fine day for training." Gai flashed a precursor to his trademark smile, and gave Kakashi a "thumbs up". "You may have beaten me out here, but you won't complete 500 laps around the village first." No sooner had the irrepressible spandex clad Shinobi finished speaking than he took off running, leaving a groggy and mildly irritated Kakashi blinking sleep from his eyes, wondering what had just happened.

Still unable to really move, Kakashi continued to lean on the doors-it figured Gai had been in too much of a hurry to bother with opening them, preferring to just leap from the walls—and wait for some _sane_ Shinobi to take him to the medics. Every few minutes a green streak accompanied by a slight breeze informed Kakashi of Gai's passing. Clearly Gai hadn't noticed Kakashi had yet to move from his seat.

Just as the sun managed to peek through the mists with weak, yellow tinged tendrils, Gai slid to a stop in front of the reposed Copy Ninja.

"You're done?" Gai's mouth gaped for a long moment as he stared. While Gai felt sweat rolling off his forehead and struggled to breathe evenly, Kakashi seemed cool and well rested. For a moment, Gai felt a vein in his forehead throb.

"Once again you have defeated me, Kakashi." Gai fell to his knees in despair, crying and sobbing dramatically. "But you won't do one thousand kicks before me!" The irrepressible ninja sprang to his feet, scaled the village wall, startling the Shinobi on guard and almost earning himself a kunai to the chest, and vanished, presumably to the training grounds.

Kakashi let his head thud against the door, a mute expression of his frustration with Might Gai and his relief at being left alone again. Cool morning air and the gentle chirping of birds and insects lulled him into a half sleep. He didn't notice the door beside him opening or the departing squad. Their sudden exclamations at finding a Shinobi leaning against the other door, and then of recognition, failed to wake him.

A medic nin touched Kakashi's cheek gently, smoothing the fabric under his thumb.

"Kakashi? Can you hear me?"

Kakashi grunted and peeled his eye open. The medic smiled slightly, moved Kakashi onto the waiting stretcher and carried him to the hospital.

To Kakashi, the world seemed to skip ahead in bursts. He couldn't remember the trip to the hospital, but he remembered going through the front doors, staring up at the glowing red signs and fluorescent lights as he flew down the halls. Then he was on an exam table, half naked and surrounded by medics, nurses, and assorted technicians. Cold metal, barely covered by tissue thin paper, pressed against his bare flesh, sending a scattering of goose bumps across his chest and arms. He shivered involuntarily.

His right glove was gone, but his left remained, clenched inside his iron fist. An IV poured fluids into his veins through the back of his bare hand, the needle inserted at an awkward angle in a silent testimony to the Copy Ninja's refusal to cooperate even while unconscious, and administered a powerful antidote to the drugs Itachi had administered.

Satisfied he wouldn't die, and certain that the drugs were the only thing causing his weakness and exhaustion, they wrapped him up in blankets, deposited him in a bed in a private room, and left him to sleep off the rest of the side effects.

xXxXXxXx

By the next morning I was certain we were being followed.

I listened to the birdsong, a smattering of chirps and warbles, and listened to the wind sigh through the tress. Sunlight painted the world a light green where it passed through the leaves above and creating patches of liquid gold where it shone unhindered. Small clearings hosted flowers by the thousands, a carpet of tiny colors more vibrant than jewels. The air smelled of warmth and summer, fresh grasses, flowers and the too sweet scent of pollen. Even Kisame made an off-hand comment about the perfection of the day.

I immediately suspected gen jutsu. Besides the fact that our path, which had been the same for the previous three days, suddenly changed, I knew too many forests to be fooled by such a picturesque scenario. It almost seemed like a description taken straight from a cheap fairy tale.

On a hunch, I snuck a glance up at the sun. A double rainbow ringed it, barely visible in the glare. Kisame glared over his shoulder at me when I sighed softly. I returned the look with a patented Uchiha scowl.

It was going to be a long day.

xXxXXxXx

Kakashi was reading with his eyes closed when his door opened. His left eye opened lazily, and focused on the visitor. There was a brief instant of confusion—who would wear flowing white robes with long sleeves and floor length hems in the height of summer—and sudden recognition had Kakashi leaping to his feet.

The Copy Ninja swayed, then pitched forward, narrowly avoiding ripping his IV out in the process. The Hokage moved with the fluidity of a lifelong ninja as he caught Kakashi by the shoulders and returned him to his bed.

"Let us not stand on formality today, Hatake Kakashi. I am an old man, and would be grateful for a moment's rest."

Kakashi didn't buy a word of it, but was too proud to admit that he was too weak to argue the point. Sarutobi settled into the visitor's chair without further comment, leaving a heavy silence. Kakashi absently fingered the pages of his book, feeling the soft corners and weak spine. Too much more abuse and it would fall apart altogether. But that was why they printed newer books, so the older ones could retire quietly to shelves to be admired from afar and remembered fondly.

The new books were never quite the same as the old ones, and diehard fans of one could never fully appreciate the other.

"So." Sarutobi sighed the word, dragging it out into the stillness of the room.

"Itachi is alive. I could not bring him back, dead or alive." Kakashi met Sarutobi's eyes squarely, unashamed of his report. Comrades above all else.

"Kakashi. Nothing will bring Itachi home, not even his death. From the letter he left with you, that much is clear." Sarutobi looked away, staring off out the window. "I sent you on a fool's errand. I see that now."

Kakashi chewed his lower lip thoughtfully, wondering how many of the comments were actually directed at him, and how many were simply the old man thinking out loud.

"What did the letter say?" he hazarded at length.

"Itachi was quite eloquent about the situation, detailing how regardless of whether or not the village could forgive him, he will never be able to forgive himself. He doesn't deserve to be forgiven."

Kakashi tensed, feeling his fists clench. Forcing a calm smile, he yawned and settled back on the bed.

"Forgive me, Kakashi, you are still recovering and I am keeping you from your rest. Sleep, we can speak of this when you are feeling stronger."

Kakashi's eyes were closed before Sarutobi closed the door, but he was far from sleep. Of all the imbecilic things, Itachi had left a note and denounced any reconciliation with the Leaf. All the planning of becoming a spy, of helping the Leaf catch the Akatsuki was gone. He slammed his left fist against the bed in a rare display of frustration. Something poked against his palm and crinkled.

Further inspection revealed a careful creased and extremely wrinkled piece of paper. On the outside, Itachi had scribed three characters: Kakashi.

xXxXXxXx

He didn't stop following us, but he kept his distance. If I hadn't known better, I would have brushed it off as a just another traveler heading our way. But our way happened to be a frustrating circle, and he happened to be a deranged Sanin intent on evicting my soul and stealing my body.

I feigned relaxation, reclining against a tree trunk and staring absently into the stars. Fires are more interesting to watch, but I decided the loss of my night vision wasn't worth it. Like every other night, we ate in silence, and probably would sit in silence until one of us fell asleep and the other took first watch. It had been that way for days.

"You are a moron." Kisame practically snarled at me, pure disgust dripping from his words.

"Really?"

"Almost two weeks we've been out here, even counting that little side trip of yours, and you still haven't got a clue."

"Oh? And what, precisely, am I overlooking? The fact that we've been walking the same circle since we left the Leaf, or the fact that there isn't really a mission? Or perhaps I ought to have noticed that you have been studying my fighting style with greater intensity than most people apply to surviving a battle, or were you referring to the ninja following us?"

Kisame scowled.

"You cocky brat!" His sword dug into the tree a hairsbreadth from my face. I'd shifted a fraction to the side when I saw the blow coming, enough to save my face without seeming to move at all.

He swung again and I leapt to the side, sliding out of the way. I blocked the third strike with a kunai, and felt my chakra start to drain. I dodged the next swing and melted into the shadows of the forest. Kisame plunged after me, but he knew nothing about the tricks trees can play in firelight. Knowing your surroundings and how to use them can be a stronger weapon than the most powerful of jutsu.

I ghosted through the trees and circled around behind him. Each of my steps fell precisely in time with his, and I dogged his footsteps more faithfully than his shadow. Enraged, he swung his sword recklessly. I think he intended to reap the entire forest in his determination to kill me. Pity he couldn't think plans through.

When the distance between us shrank to a mere arms-length I leapt forward and thrust my kunai under his chin. Any movement on his part would slit his throat, leaving him bleeding and gasping for air as he slowly drowned in his own life blood.

"Still plan to kill me?"

Kisame growled but made no further movements.

"I can see why your last partners died. Let me assure you that I have no intention dying here, or anytime soon. So, we can work together, or I can kill you and find myself a different partner, one with some sense."

"No, I think you'll do. As long as you don't die on me."

Kisame thrust his elbow back where he expected my stomach ought to be. He met with empty air. Seeing the confusion on his face was almost priceless, but I took pity on him and released the gen jutsu. We stared at each other from opposite sides of the fire, and I feel like I could see the respect dawning in his eyes. Since he couldn't use much gen jutsu, in fact I would later learn he preferred to smash first, slice second, and only use jutsu when all else failed, my ease in using the technique impressed him. I think.

xXxXXxXx

Kakashi stared down at the page crumpled in his hands. Though the characters were messily scrawled, with some hastily scratched out and some smudged nearly beyond recognition, he had little difficulty reading the message.

Understanding it proved impossible.

No matter how many time he read it, how hard he tried to understand what Itachi was thinking, Kakashi couldn't make sense of the meaning. He finally fell asleep, still contemplating the strange missive and still unsure whether he should feel loved or crushed.

The paper slipped out of his limp fingers and drifted slowly the the floor before sliding under the bed. When the nurse stopped by later that night to change his IV, she stepped on the page but didn't notice.

Kakashi's dreams were troubled. Spidery words danced through his head, taunting and mocking, tender and caressing, so like his once lover and unlike him.

_I don't think you'll ever understand. _

_I don't understand myself. _

_I love you. _

_I hate you. _

_I hate what you stand for._

_I hate what I've become._

_I love what you've made me._


	12. Desire Despair Denial

Desire. Despair. Denial.

A/N: Greetings. Again. If I said I'm sorry to everyone who has read, reviewed, favorited or pm'd me about this story, it would take a while. A long while. In lieu of that (and in favor of getting to the story) I'll write it just once more. Sorry for taking so long to update. I could say it's because this story is getting difficult to write because there are so many ways it could go (don't you just hate that gray area between point A and point B?), or because I've been working full time and enjoy sleeping occasionally, or because my computer has been out of commission (I have finally gone from XP to Windows 7. Not by choice, but out of necessity. At least it is not Vista.). All of these statements are true. That doesn't make it okay. So. Sorry. But, here it is, in all its…glory. Enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~XxXxXxX~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I wish.

There are so many things I want to change, to redo, to undo, but I find I cannot go back. I cannot unsee the lifeless eyes of my best friend staring at me as I tossed his corpse in the river. I cannot make myself a better person than the killer, the murderer, I have become. I want to join them in the afterlife, but everything time I mix the toxin into my cup of raise the kunai to my heart I find my hand hesitates. There is nothing left for me here, nothing left to live for, but I don't deserve the eternal rest. I don't deserve peace.

And, there's Kakashi.

I miss him. I need his presence so desperately it is a physical ache, but I don't deserve him either. He needs someone strong, not someone huddled around a campfire with one of the Seven Shinobi Swordsmen, waiting for Orochimaru to catch up. He needs someone capable of loving him, not just using him to forget, as I did.

I hate him. Hate everything he's done. I hate the way he made me feel valuable, the way he showed nothing but love and concern for me. I hate how much I need him now. I hate that I'm dragging him down with me, that his connection with me may harm his reputation in the village, may destroy his sense of purpose in life.

I hate that I'm afraid I'll never see him again.

Kisame was too quiet, leaving me alone with my thoughts. I was the one who stopped us, without explanation. He didn't know who or what I was waiting for, only that I was waiting for something, and I didn't like what I was seeking.

Shadows flitted across his face, dropping details in some places and heightening them in others. I couldn't see the line of his jaw but every tiny crease around his right eye was plain to me. I studied him, trying to push Kakashi from my mind, but found myself comparing them. Kakashi was thinner, wiry where Kisame was a walking tank. Kisame was raw force where Kakashi was finesse and strategy. Kisame was a partner, a tool in my hand just as I was a tool in his, a symbiotic parasitism. Neither of us willingly helped the other, but drew as much as we could. Kakashi was a lover, always giving and never expecting anything in return.

My preference was obvious, but duty forced me to stay with the wrong one, to remain faithful to ideals I despised to protect…

Orochimaru slung an arm around my shoulders as he settled beside me. I fought the instinct to tense and pull away and palmed the kunai strapped to my wrist. Just one opening and the damn serpent would be dead.

"Tell me about Sasuke."

Across the fire Kisame failed to conceal his sudden interest. I glared at Orochimaru and he withdrew his embrace. He wanted to keep the arm.

"Or, you could agree to become my vessel…"

I let the Sharingan bleed into my eyes, intensifying my glare. In one fluid motion, I shoved him to the ground and pressed the kunai to his throat hard enough to draw blood.

"Stay away from me." The knife dug deeper and blood gushed from the wound. "Stay away from me, or I'll make you wish you'd died during the wars, had never heard the name Uchiha."

For a moment I saw something akin to fear in his eyes, and then the jutsu released. Free from the effects of my genjutsu, he pulled away from me and melded into the shadows.

"They always come to me, in the end. Remember that, Itachi."

I pulled my cloak closer and stared into the fire, unwilling to consider what, precisely, the serpent meant.

"What the hell was that about?" Kisame snarled, concerned not only that a Sanin had walked into his camp, sat down and acted very friendly toward his admittedly homosexual team mate, and abruptly left, but also that said Sanin had fled the camp just as abruptly and issued a cryptic threat.

"Apparently there is more than one loose end for my brother to clean up," I answered, still staring at the flames.

"Some very loose ends."

-XxXxXxX-

Kakashi settled the hitai-ate over his eye, straightened his mask, and left his hospital room. One night of observation proved sufficient to convince the medic nin that his mission had left him little more than bruised and exhausted. His stubborn refusal to answer any specific questions, from anyone, or file a report with exacting details was chalked up to extreme emotional trauma. Though frowned upon, such a reaction was not entirely unexpected in his situation. Any teacher sent to kill a student, or even a friend sent to eliminate a comrade would be expected to suffer some sadness.

Instead of checking out at the front desk, Kakashi slid the window open, stepped on the sill, and set off across the roof tops. Thankfully, he had few memories of Itachi in the village. Most of their encounters were on missions or training.

The note haunted him. Itachi was always apathetic, so the combination of emotions packed into so few words was confusing at best. Clearly Itachi was also confused, and possibly, probably, suffering the same sort of heartache, but handling it in the typical Itachi style: eliminating the source of the problem swiftly and efficiently.

There was a nagging feeling he couldn't quite shake, as if Itachi had meant something more by his parting words than it seemed. Kakashi pushed the idea away, unwilling to deal with the matter. His growling stomach and heavy eyelids demanded his immediate attention, and a certain chain smoking jounin owed him a favor.

Asuma never asked questions.

For as long as the two had been Shinobi, Kakashi and Asuma had a silent agreement to simply quietly sympathize with the other over a bottle of the strongest liquor readily available. One would simply show up at the other's door for a night of companionable silence. Such nights were infrequent, more so since Asuma admitted his feelings for Kurenai, but still precious.

And Asuma could cook.

Whenever Kakashi arrived on his stoop, Asuma managed to throw together a glorious feast from whatever he happened to have in the house. Kakashi merely grabbed his wallet when the positions were reversed.

That day was no exception. Though it was nearly noon, and most self-respecting Shinobi were already about their business, Asuma answered his door after the second knock. Wordlessly, he motioned Kakashi inside. The entire apartment reeked of stale smoke, and spent cigarette butts formed a smoldering mountain in the end table ashtray.

Asuma's eyes were red rimmed and bloodshot, a testament to at least a few sleepless nights. Clearly something was bothering him, too.

"You've been gone a while, Hatake." Asuma chewed the butt of his dying cigarette thoughtfully, still able to scrutinize the man before him despite his own troubles.

Silence settled over them, ripe with a thousand unasked questions and a million half formed responses. Kakashi studied the grain of the table between them, suddenly hyper aware that he was sitting in Asuma's kitchen and unable to remember the journey from the foyer. Dozens of tiny groves marred the surface, denting the varnish and damaging the wood beneath. Some would vanish with a light sanding, others would require hours of patience and care to remove. In the light from the window, they looked like tiny silver scars.

Kakashi flinched when a cup of coffee suddenly interrupted his thoughts.

"I don't think tea, or whiskey, would help today. Besides, I'm fresh out of both." Asuma explained, cradling his own cup. Kakashi sight and raised his glass in a silent toast of thanks before taking a small sip.

The liquid burned all the way down.

-XxXxXxX-

I let my body move of its own accord. Fighting was breathing in motion to me, so second nature that it required no extra thought. The alleged Shinobi I fought could barely hold his katana, much less wield it effectively, and I toyed with him only to buy time for Kisame. The shark was insistent upon completing the mission without being seen. He implied that Pein wanted to minimize the casualties on this mission, though for what reason I could not fathom. I found I didn't particularly care, either.

Unfortunately, the fighting freed my mind for other things. Like thinking about Kakashi. I doubted my teamwork with Kisame would ever compare to what I'd had with the Copy Ninja. For a moment I could feel his lips on mine again, his hands drawing me in an impossibly close embrace.

My opponent slashed viciously across my face. I moved away enough that the blow was only a shallow cut, but the pain blossomed fiercely, and forced me into the present. Kisame caught my eye, signaling it was time to leave, and I cut down the swordsman with a single thrust. He wasn't' dead, but he would never fight again.

Kisame foisted a fistful of scrolls off on me, demanding I carry them. Uncaring, I stowed them in one of the many pockets in my cloak without complaint, The weather quickly turned foul, going from simply cloudy to a full out downpour, but I found myself indifferent.

I wanted answers.

I wanted revenge.

I wanted justice.

Nothing was going to interfere with that.

Not even Kakashi.

…

Pein was waiting for us when we entered the compound. His eyes seemed to see through me, and he looked unhappy. Wordlessly, I offered him the scrolls, which he took without actually acknowledging me.

"Any problems? You were gone longer than I anticipated." Pein stared at me while he addressed Kisame. The shark man refrained from looking at me while he lied through his teeth.

"Nah, no trouble at all. We just decided to…get to _know_ each other. Ya know, set some _boundaries._" Kisame rubbed the back of his neck casually, indicating how tentative Pein's power over him truly was.

I met Pein's gaze steadily, unnerved but determined not to show it, an effort wasted when I flinched and looked away as a muscle spasm caused my vision to skip and suddenly blur. Squeezing my eyes shut and pinching the bridge of my nose did nothing to rectify it. Pein stared at me with such intensity I could feel his eyes on me.

"Something wrong, Itachi?" Pein asked. I heard a curious tone to his voice and wondered at the implication.

"Pein-sama! Tobi has a-Itachi-san! Pein-sama said you weren't coming back, but Tobi knew! Tobi knew! Tobi learned a new jutsu! Deidara-chan taught me."

"Tobi!" Deidara materialized behind the child-like Akatsuki, fist poised for a punch.

"Punch-Evasion Jutsu!" Tobi yelled, dragging me between himself and the angry sculptor as a human shield. Deidara tried to pull the punch at the last second, failed, and whacked my stoutly in the chest.

Everyone in the room froze and a deathly silence descended. I opened my eyes slowly and sighed, forcing air back into my abused lungs.

"I need a drink." I said, staring Deidara down.

"Hehe! Tobi's jutsu is perfect!"

"Tobi!"

Without waiting to see if Tobi managed to escape another blow, I left the main hall and tried to find my rooms. My vision settled as I walked and the world settled back into the usual lines. I found my room without incident, a blessing I attributed to luck more than anything else. I walked slowly around the room, lighting the candles. It had only been a few weeks, but I'd managed to adorn every flat surface with at least one, and eventually I planned to have thousands. Like my room in—

Pein touched my shoulder. I flinch and reflexively drew a kunai, whirling to stab my attacker. The sight of him drew me up short.

"There's something you aren't telling me, Itachi-kun. The more you try to hid it, the more I wonder about it. Why are you keeping secrets?" I felt his eyes boring into me, but refused to acknowledge my discomfort. I wouldn't give him that satisfaction.

"Does it have something to do with your lover?"

I remained silent, and attempted to meet his gaze stonily. I think I succeeded in creating a façade of indifference, but internally I trembled, my heart raced, and I couldn't seem to breathe properly.

"He left so quickly. Did you have a fight?"

"No. We didn't quarrel." Finally, a question I could answer without lying. I knew from experience, both my own and Deidara's, that Pein could sense lies more easily than an Inuzuka could smell kin or an Aburame could manipulate bugs. For him, it was more than instinctive, it was some sort of reflex.

"Hmm. I'm sorry, I seem to have forgotten his name. Who was he, again?" I looked away and bit my lip until I tasted blood. A shiver ran down my spine; my kunai was suddenly slippery in my sweaty palms; I felt like an errant school boy brought before the headmaster for lying. I refused to answer.

"Hmm. I understand your reluctance. You think I would kill Hatake Kakashi of the Sharingan Eye if I knew he was here.

"But I didn't, Itachi-kun. " Pein reached out to cup my cheek in his palm and brush some of my bangs out of my face. "I knew who he was the moment I saw him. He has very distinctive chakra. But as I told you, so long as it doesn't interfere with my plans, I am unconcerned with your choice in lovers."

"I don't love him. We aren't in any sort of romantic relationship."

"Can you look me in the eye and say that, Itachi-kun?"

I hesitated. At that point, I wasn't sure if I believed me, much less if I could convince Pein of it. But for Kakashi's sake, I had to. If I failed, the silver Wolf ANBU would be the one chink in the armor surrounding my heart, the one thing that could effectively bring me down. My feelings for him left me even more vulnerable than my bond with Sasuke.

I stared straight into the ripples of the Rinnegan and said "I am not in love with Hatake Kakashi."

"I'll keep that in mind, Itachi-san."


	13. Bells in the Rain

Bells

Three years after Itachi left the village, Kakashi left ANBU. He spent the better part of the next year acclimating to the life of a Jounin. No midnight assassinations, no covert operations shrouded in mystery and denial, actually getting to see the sunrise from his own window, from his own bed on occasion. But the best part was actually having time to really enjoy reading the _Icha Icha Paradise_ series.

Of course, he still went on missions, usually as a team leader, occasionally alone, and he spent more than enough time drinking with Asuma and proving to Gai that he still reigned supreme in all things ninja. The only downside to the ANBU-less life, besides the unwavering dependability of his comrades, was the Genin.

Every time the Academy decided to graduate a new batch of snot-nosed children, Kakashi got saddled with a team. After the first group disappointed him miserably on the first D-rank mission, failing to find a lost cat and return it in one day, Kakashi started formulating a way to rid himself of them.

Fortunately, the shortage of high ranking Jounin in village meant that he still received "S-Class" missions, and gave him a respite from his new charges. When an assignment to Amegakure arose, he practically leapt at the chance. Not only would he get some time away from his new students, but he would have something to keep his mind off _him. _

Every time his new Genin smiled or laughed, flashed him the look of pure adoration possessed only by the young in awe of a skilled teacher, Kakashi saw Itachi's face, his expressive black eyes, vibrant body language. It was part of the reason Kakashi retired from ANBU: he couldn't focus on the mission, jeopardizing his team mates. As time passed and his memories faded, his focus waned further.

A new mission, complex reconnaissance, promised to consume enough of his time that he wouldn't think of Itachi, wouldn't wonder what became of his raven lover. That the mission took him to the opposite side of the ninja world from Akatsuki's layer proved a bonus. The exact specifications seemed vague. Kakashi only knew that something seemed amiss in the Village Hidden in the Rain, and he needed to find out what, and why, if he could manage to slip past the border guards.

…

I enjoyed kicking Deidara's face in. The smallest things in life bring the greatest joy.

As the clay clone collapsed, Deidara launched another attack, sending a barrage of bombs at me from the very walls of our training facility. With the Sharingan, I evaded all of them easily and pinpointed his hiding spot. A particularly well aimed Fireball brought the artist out of hiding.

"Ow! Damn it, Itachi! What the hell is your problem? This is just training and you're trying to kiln me!" Deidara ranted, patting out the small fires leaping along the red clouds of his cloak.

"Not nearly strong enough, Deidara." I watched him absently, slowly allowing the Sharingan to fade. For a moment my vision blurred, turning Deidara into a quivering blob of blond spotted with red, but the effect faded after on a few moments.

Leaving him to his own fire-extinguishing methods, I left the building. Instantly, the perpetual rain left me soaked to the bone. The sodden hems of my sleeves dragged across my knuckles, the bottom of the cloak slapped against the backs of my calves. At first Amegakure irritated me, and I longed for the perpetual sunlit forests of Konoha, but there was something appealing about the city of steel and rain.

It seemed barren, on the surface. A cowed people in a broken city. But beneath that, there lurked a bitter resilience that appealed, resonated within me, even as I moved outside its vein of life.

Nothing there reminded me of Kakashi. Not the broken people or the harsh skyline, not the rain or the rasping of the wind between the buildings. Only in the depths of night, alone in my bed and unable to sleep did I see his face, burned into my retinas, frozen in a cocky, confident, genuine smile.

I paused outside the door to my apartment. Pein's instructions upon our arrival here had been painstakingly clear: training rooms, home, or on a designated path between them. No leaving the city, no interacting with the denizens (except for Konan, but the people had to have their Angel). In the distance, just beyond the borders of the Hidden Rain, I could see a forest. A perfect place to practice my Fire Jutsu.

Pein never had to know.

Leaving a shadow clone at my apartment, I set out for the trees.

….

Kakashi landed silently in the treetop. The unmistakable explosions of large jutsu reverberated through the trees again, the source obviously near. Kakashi could see flashes of light, but at that distance, in such a dense part of the forest, he couldn't make out what type of jutsu, or the ninja wielding it.

He crept closer, knowing that the border with Amegakure lay only a kilometer to his right, and what he sought might well be a trap or a conflict between another nation's ninja and the border guards, but knew the Hokage would be irritated if he didn't investigate. Kunai in hand, the Copy Ninja crouched in the arms of an oak at the edge of a large clearing. An Akatsuki, head and neck obscured by an oversize straw hat, cloaked in a pattern of red clouds, stood near the center, breathing heavily.

Seizing the opportunity to eliminate one of Konoha's top threats and gain valuable intel, Kakashi jumped from the tree, seized the Akatsuki, and pinned him against the nearest tree, kunai poised over his jugular. With his elbow, Kakashi knocked the hat off and pushed his hitai-ate off his Sharingan eye.

"Hello, Kakashi." A pale man with eyes and hair the color of a raven's feathers stared at him. Deep lines etched the man's face, making him seem permanently exhausted. His long black hair formed a simple tail at the nape of his neck before disappearing into his cloak. Only one of his arms actually went through the sleeve of the garment, the other roamed inside, as if reaching for a weapon, though Kakashi noted that his captive bore no weapons pouches of shuriken or obvious holsters of kunai. A long moment passed as recognition dispelled the Copy Ninja's disbelief.

"Ita-kun?"

Itachi's arm snaked out of the robe, his fingers clutching Kakashi's hair and drawing his face down for a kiss. Kakashi tensed instinctively, but felt his guard dropping. Itachi pulled back with a sound almost like a sigh and released him.

"You can kill me now."

"An odd request, considering." Kakashi kissed him again. "Besides, I can think of more interesting things we could do. That is, if I'm no misreading your intentions." The kunai fell to the ground, a lay there, forgotten beside Itachi's hat.

XXX

I let my cloak fall to the ground, pressing myself closer to Kakashi to get it off my shoulders. My fingers found his hair again as his worked at the knot on my hitai-ate. Eager for his hands to be elsewhere, the memories of that day and ghosts of his touches lingering on my skin, I ripped it off unceremoniously, and his followed. They collided on the ground with a metallic clank. All the while I kissed him like I was drowning.

His fingers slid down to my hips and danced there a moment before grabbing the hem of my shirt and ripping it off. Kakashi broke away for a moment to get the garment off completely, and took the chance to admire me.

"You're so thin…" he whispered, tracing my ribs while leaning in to nuzzle my neck. "Haven't they been feeding you?"

"I've been training, and I've been sick…" I started, only to be cut off by another kiss. Head spinning, I leaned back against the tree and blinked. "What was the question?" Kakashi laughed into the next kiss and pulled me close again. My fingers traced his spine and his hips ground into mine.

I moaned and pressed back, desperate for more contact. In moments, instants to fast to even process, he finished disrobing us both and pressed against me.

"I don't have anything suitable for this," he whispered. His fingers left no doubt in my mind as to what 'this' meant. Swallowing, I pushed back on his hand, smiling slightly.

"At this point, I don't think either of us really care." As if that was all the permission he needed, Kakashi sheathed himself in one fluid motion, slamming my back against the rough bark of the tree.

Never had anything hurt so much. My head spasmed against the trunk, bringing tears to my eyes, and Kakashi immediately froze. His fingers stroked my hair, and he whispered soothingly. His free hand traced my sensitive skin, distracting me. When the pain was bearable, I braced my arms on his shoulders and wrapped my legs around his waist. With my full weight divided between him, and the tree trunk, we moved as one into ecstasy.

…

I pulled my cloak over us, shielding our sweaty skin from the growing cold. He lay his head upon his crossed arms, stretching his lean torso into a perfect pillow. I couldn't resist laying my head upon his chest, my ear to his heart. Such a steady rhythm soothed me, brushing away my consciousness of the aches in my body.

So much time since last we met, and Kakashi had not been gentle, nor had I wanted him to. My blood, our passion, stained the ground beneath us, but we didn't care. We were warm, and alive, and that was all that mattered.

He spoke of Konoha, at my urging, and pressed me for tales of my life. He told me of the Genin, and I told him of Deidara and Tobi, of Amegakure and the chakra rain.

"Maybe you have an answer for me, Itachi." Kakashi absently stroked the back of my head and played with my hair.

"An answer to what?"

"My Genin problem. They don't understand—none of them understand—how to be a team. They are so used to being rivals, competing to be the best, they don't trust each other."

"I don't know…" I yawned and curled closer to him sleepily. Wind rustled the cloak and set the bells on my hat chiming softly. Inspired, I rolled over, pulled them from my hat, and pressed them into Kakashi's hand.

"Problem solved." I stated, then resumed falling asleep on top of him.

"How does a pair of Akatsuki bells do anything but create more problems?"

"Three Genin, two bells, one Kakashi." I could practically feel the exasperation rolling off him. "If I spell it out, can I sleep?" When I felt him nod, I continued.

"You said they are rivals, so make them compete. Only the two who get bells get to remain Genin. The loser goes back to the Academy. The catch is the bells are tied to your belt, and the only way three average Genin are going to get so much as a glimpse of them is if they work as a team. Give them a time limit. If they don't figure it out and come to terms with the fact that one of them is going to have to sacrifice his dreams for the group to succeed, they all fail. If they figure it out and work together, they pass."

"Sometimes I wonder about you." Kakashi sighed into my hair. "I don't think I would have passed something like that, when I was fresh from the Academy." I could hear the pain in his voice, and knew he was thinking of Obito.

"Maybe, but you learned your lesson in the worst way, Kakashi. I know you will never allow that to happen to your students.

"It wasn't your fault, Kakashi, that—"

"Itachi…"

I fell silent, not knowing what to say. I could never make the pain vanish, could never really understand his guilt. My own pain might match his, but I caused it. He would probably never realize that it wasn't his fault.

"When are they expecting you back?" he asked, fingers stilling.

"I left a clone. They…they don't know I left."

He rolled on top of me, forearms barely suspending him above my chest.

"Then you're mine." He said before kissing me slowly.


End file.
